Jb.&.i 


POGANUC  PEOPLE, 


MRS.    STOWE'S    RECENT   BOOKS. 


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FORDS,  HOWARD,  6°  HULBERT,  27  Park  Place,  N.Y. 

MY  WIFE  AND  I;   or,  Harry   Henderson's   History.      A  Novel. 
Illustrated.     i2mo.     Cloth,  $1.50. 

WE  AND  OUR  NEIGHBORS:   The  Records  of  an  Unfashionable 
Street.     A  Novel.     Illustrated.     i2mo.     Cloth,  $1.50. 


BETTY'S  BRIGHT  IDEA:  and  Other  Tales.  Comprising 
"  Betty's  Bright  Idea,"  "  Deacon  Pitkin's  Farm,"  and  "  The 
First  Christmas  in  New  England."  Illustrated.  i2mo.  Cloth, 
75  cts.  

POGANUC  PEOPLE :  Their  Loves  and  Lives.  A  Novel.  Illus 
trated,  izmo.  Cloth,  $1.50.  (Just  out.) 


BIBLE  HEROINES:  Narrative  Biographies  of  Prominent  Hebrew 
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FOOTSTEPS  OF  THE  MASTER :  Studies  Ih  the  Life  of  Christ. 
With  Illustrations  and  Illuminated  Tiths.  i2mo.  Cloth,  $1.50. 


THE  PARSON'S  DAUGHTER. 

Oh,  Nabby,  Nabby  !  do  tell  me  what  they  are  doing  up  at  your 
church.  I've  seen  'em  all  day  carrying  armfulls  and  arm- 
fulls — ever  so  much — of  spruce  and  pine  up  that  way" — p.  8. 


POGANUC  PEOPLE: 


THEIR  LOVES  AND  LIVES. 


BY  HARRIET  BEECHER  STOWE. 

• 

Author  of  "Uncle  Tom's  Cabin"  "My  Wife  and  /,"  "  We  and  Our 
Neighbors,"  etc. 


itl      llustrations. 


Uwr-JR 


NEW  YORK: 
FORDS,  HOWARD,  6-  HULBERT. 


COPYRIGHT,   1878,   A.D. 


CONTENTS. 


I.  DISSOLVING'  VIEWS,                     .           .  .         .           .           .  7 

II.  DOLLY,      .                 16 

III.  THE  ILLUMINATION,     .        .        ,       .        .        .24 

IV.  DOLLY'S  ADVENTURE,        .        .                .        .  39 
V.  DOLLY'S  FIRST  CHRISTMAS  DAY,     "    .        .        .48 

VI.  VILLAGE  POLITICIANS,       .        .        .        .        *.  Ci 

VII.  THE  DOCTOR'S  SERMON,      .        .        .        «        .  68 

VIII.  MR.  COAN  ANSWERS  THE  DOCTOR,.        .        .  St 

IX.  ELECTION  DAY  IN  POGANUC,       .        .        .        .  90 

X.  DOLLY'S  PERPLEXITIES,     .....  107 

XI.  DOLLY  AND  NABBY  ARE  INVITED  OUT,-      .    .    .  115 

XII.  DOLLY  GOES  INTO  COMPANY,    ....  127 

XIII.  COLONEL  DAVENPORT'S  EXPERIENCES 138 

XIV.  THE  PUZZLE  OF  POGANUC,       ....  150 
XV.  THE  POGANUC  PUZZLE  SOLVED,  ...        .        .  160 

XVI.  POGANUC  PARSONAGE,       .        .      •.        .        .  166 

XVII.  SPRING  AND  SUMMER  COME  AT  LAST,.        .        .  181 

XVIII.  DOLLY'S  FOURTH  OF  JULY,      ....  190 

XIX.  SUMMER  DAYS  IN  POGANUC,         ....  203 

XX.  GOING    "  A-ClIESTNUTTING,"         ....  220 

XXI.  DOLLY'S  SECOND  CHRISTMAS,       ....  228 

XXII.  THE  APPLE  BEE,      ;        ...        .        .  239 


881624 


vi  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXIII.  SEEKING  A  DIVINE  IMPULSE,      ....  250 

XXIV.  "  IN  SUCH  AN  HOUR  AS  YE  THINK  NOT,"     .  260 
XXV.  DOLLY  BECOMES  ILLUSTRIOUS 267 

XXVI.  THE  VICTORY, 274 

XXVII.  THE  FUNERAL,   ....       •'.        *    „    .  280 

XXVIII.  DOLLY  AT  THE  WICKET  GATE,       .        .        .  290 

XXIX.  THE  CONFLICT, ..294 

XXX.  THE  CRISIS,.    .        .        .        .        .  300 

XXXI.  THE  JOY  OF  HARVEST,      .        .        .        .        .  309 

XXXII.  Six  YEARS  LATER, 317 

XXXIII.  THE  DOCTOR  MAKES  A  DISCOVERY,  .        .        .  325 

XXXIV.  HIEL  AND  NABBY, 330 

XXXV.  Miss  DEBBY  ARRIVES, 337 

XXXVI.  PREPARATIONS  FOR  SEEING  LIFE,  ...  344 

XXXVII.  LAST  WORDS,      .        .        .        .        .        .        .  350 

XXXVIII.  DOLLY'S  FIRST  LETTER  TO  BOSTON,      .        .  354 

XXXIX.  DOLLY'S  SECOND  LETTER,  .        .        .        .360 

XL.  ALFRED  D UNBAR  TO  EUGENE  SINCLAIR,         ,  365 

XLI.  FINALE,                                                  .        .        .  3?o 


THE  PARSON'S  DAUGHTER, FRONTISPIECE. 

CASTE,         . PAGE            67 

HIEL  IN  HIS  GLORY, 109 

CHESTNUTTING,           .        .        .        .        .        .  226 


POGANUC   PEOPLE. 


CHAPTER  .  1.  ,,t  , 

DISSOLVING  VIE>VS, 

|HE  scene  is  a  large,"  roomy,  clean  New 
England  kitchen  of  some  sixty  years 
ago.  There  was  the  great  wide  fire 
place,  with  its  crane  and  array  of  pot 
hooks  ;  there  was  the  tall  black  clock  in  the  corner, 
ticking  in  response  to  the  chirp  of  the  crickets 
around  the  broad,  flat  stone  hearth.  The  scoured 
tin  and  pewter  on  the  dresser  caught  flickering 
gleams  of  brightness  from  the  western  sunbeams 
that  shone  through  the  network  of  elm-boughs, 
rattling  and  tapping  as  the  wind  blew  them 
against  the  window.  It  was  not  quite  half-past 
four  o'clock,  yet  the  December  sun  hung  low  and 
red  in  the  western  horizon,  telling  that  the  time  of 
the  shortest  winter  days  was  come.  Everything 
in  the  ample  room  shone  with  whiteness  and  neat 
ness  ;  everything  was  ranged,  put  up,  and  in 
order,  as  if  work  were  some  past  and  bygone 


7 


8  DISSOLVING    VIEWS. 

affair,  hardly  to  be  remembered.  The  only  living 
figure  in  this  picture  of  still  life  was  that  of  a 
strapping,  buxom  Yankee  maiden,  with  plump 
arms  stripped  to  the  elbow  and  hands  plunged 
deep  in  the  white,  elastic  cushion  of  puffy  dough, 
which  rose  under  them  as  she  kneaded. 

Apparently  pleasant  thoughts  were  her  com 
pany  in  her  solitude,  for  her  round,  brown  eyes 
twinkled  .with  a  pleased  sparkle,  and  every  now 
and  then  she  broke. into  fragments  of  psalmody, 
which  l.&fe 6  : practiced,  over  and  over,  and  then 
nodded  her  head  contentedly,  as  if  satisfied  that 
she  had  caught  the  tune. 

Suddenly  the  outside  door  fleAV  open  and  little 
Dolly  Gushing  burst  into  the  kitchen,  panting 
and  breathless,  her  cheeks  glowing  with  exercise 
in  face  of  the  keen  winter  wind. 

In  she  came,  noisy  and  busy,  dropping  her 
knitting-work  and  spelling-book  in  her  eagerness, 
shutting  the  door  behind  her  with  a  cheerful 
bang,  and  opening  conversation  without  stopping 
to'  get  her  breath  : 

"  Oh,  Nabby,  Nabby !  do  tell  me  what  they 
are  doing  up  at  your  church.  I've  seen  'em  all 
day  carrying  armfulls  and  armfulls — ever  so 
much — spruce  and  pine  up  that  way,  and  Jim 
Brace  and  Tom  Peters  told  me  they  were  going 
to  have  a  'lumination  there,  and  when  I  asked 
what  a  'lumination  was  they  only  laughed  at  mo 


DISSOLVING    VIEWS.  g 

and  called  me  a  Presbyterian.  Don't  you  think 
it's  a  shame,  Nabby,  that  the  big  boys  will  laugh 
at  me  so  and  call  me  names  and  won't  tell  me 
anything?" 

"  Oh,  land  o'  Goshen,  Dolly,  what  do  you  mind 
them  boys  for?"  said  Nabby;  "boys  is  mostly 
hateful  when  girls  is  little  ;  but  we  take  our  turn 
by  and  by,"  she  said  with  a  complacent  twinkle 
of  her  brown  eyes.  "  I  make  them  stand  around, 
I  bet  ye,  and  you  will  when  you  get  older." 

"  But,  Nabby,  what  is  a  'lumination  ?" 

"  Well  now,  Dolly,  you  jest  pick  up  your  book, 
and  put  up  your  knittin'  work,  and  sweep  out 
that  snow  you've  tracked  in,  and  hang  up  your 
bonnet  and  cloak,  and  I'll  tell  you  all  about  it," 
said  Nabby,  taking  up  her  whole  cushion  of 
dough  and  letting  it  down  the  other  side  with 
a  great  bound  and  beginning  kneading  again. 

The  little  maiden  speedily  complied  with  all 
her  requisitions  and  came  and  stood,  eager  and 
breathless,  by  the  bread  bowl. 

And  a  very  pretty  picture  she  made  there, 
with  her  rosy  mouth  just  parted  to  show  her 
little  white  teeth,  and  the  afternoon  sunshine 
glinting  through  the  window  brightness  to  go 
to  the  brown  curls  that  hung  over  her  round, 
white  forehead,  her  dark  blue  eyes  kindling  with 
eagerness  and  curiosity. 

"  Well,   you   see,"   said   Nabby,   "  to-morrow 's 


I0  DISSOLVING    VIEWS. 

Christmas ;  and  they've  been  dressin'  the  church 
with  ground  pine  and  spruce  boughs,  and  made 
it  just  as  beautiful  as  can  be,  and  they're  goin' 
to  have  a  great  gold  star  over  the  chancel. 
General  Lewis  sent  clear  to  Boston  to  get  the 
things  to  make  it  of,  and  Miss  Ida  Lewis  she 
made  it ;  and  to-night  they're  going  to  'luminate. 
They  put  a  candle  in  every  single  pane  of  glass 
in  that  air  church,  and  it  '11  be  all  just  as  light 
as  day.  When  they  get  'em  all  lighted  up  you 
can  see  that  air  church  clear  down  to  North 
Poganuc." 

Now  this  sentence  was  a  perfect  labyrinth  of 
mystery  to  Dolly ;  for  she  did  not  know  what 
Christmas  was,  she  did  not  know  what  the 
chancel  was,  she  never  saw  anything  dressed 
with  pine,  and  she  was  wholly  in  the  dark  what 
it  was  all  about ;  and  yet  her  bosom  heaved,  her 
breath  grew  short,  her  color  came  and  went, 
and  she  trembled  with  excitement.  Something 

o 

bright,  .beautiful,  glorious,  must  be  coming  into 
her  life,  and  oh,  if  she  could  only  see  it ! 

"Oh,  Nabby,  are  you  going?"  she  said,  with 
quivering  eagerness. 

"  Yes,  I'm  goin'  with  Jim  Sawin.  I  belong  to 
the  singers,  and  I'm  agoin'  early  to  practice  on 
the  anthem." 

"  Oh,  Nabby,  won't  you  take  me  ?  Do,  Nab- 
by  !"  said  Dolly,  piteously. 


.  r/.v<7  r/Kivs.  n 

"  Oh,  land  o'  Goshen !  no,  child ;  you  mustn't 
think  on  't.  I  couldn't  do  that  noways.  Your 
pa  never  would  hear  of  it,  nor  Mis'  Gushing 
neither.  You  see,  your  pa  don't  b'lieve  in 
Christmas." 

"What  is  Christmas,  Nabby?" 

"  Why,  it's  the  day  Christ  was  born — that's 
Christmas." 

"  Why,  my  papa  believes  Christ  was  born," 
said  Dolly,  with  an  injured  air;  "you  needn't 
tell  me  that  he  don't.  I've  heard  him  read  all 
about  it  in  the  Testament." 

"I  didn't  say  he  didn't,  did  I ?"  said  Nabby; 
"  but  your  papa  ain't  a  'Piscopal,  and  he  don't 
believe  in  keeping-  none  of  them  air  prayer- 
book  days — Christmas,  nor  Easter,  nor  nothin'," 
said  Nabby,  with  a  generous  profusion  of  nega 
tives.  "  Up  to  the  'Piscopal  church  they  keep 
Christmas,  and  they  don't  keep  it  down  to  your 
meetin'  house ;  that's  the  long  and  short  on  't," 
and  Nabby  turned  her  batch  of  dough  over  with 
a  final  flounce,  as  if  to  emphasize  the  statement, 
and,  giving  one  last  poke  in  the  middle  of  the 
fair,  white  cushion,  she  proceeded  to  rub  the 
paste  from  her  hands  and  to  cover  her  completed 
batch  with  a  clean  white  towel  and  then  with  a 
neat  comforter  of  quilted  cotton.  Then,  estab 
lishing  it  in  the  warmest  corner  of  the  fireplace, 
she  proceeded  to  wash  her  hands  and  look  at 


I2  DISSOLVING    VIEWS. 

the  clock  and  make  other  movements  to  show 
that  the  conversation  had  come  to  an  end. 

Poor  little  Dolly  stood  still,  looking  wistful 
and  bewildered.  The  tangle  of  brown  and  golden 
curls  on  the  outside  of  her  little  head  was  not 
more  snarled  than  the  conflicting  ideas  in  the 
inside.  This  great  and  wonderful  idea  of  Christ 
mas,  and  all  this  confusion  of  images,  of  gold 
stars  and  green  wreaths  and  illuminated  windows 
and  singing  and  music — all  done  because  Christ 
:  was  born,  and  yet  something  that  her  papa  did 
1  not  approve  of— it  was  a  hopeless  puzzle.  After 
standing  thinking  for  a  minute  or  two  she  re 
sumed  : 

"But,  Nabby,  why  don't  my  papa  like  it?  and 
why  don't  we  have  a  'lumination  in  our  meeting 
house  ?" 

"  Bless  your  heart,  child,  they  never  does  them 
things  to  Presbyterian  meetin's.  Folks'  ways  is 
different,  and  them  air  is  'Piscopal  ways.  For 
my  part  I'm  glad  father  signed  off  to  the  'Pisco- 
palians,  for  it's  a  great  deal  jollier." 

"Oh,  dear!  my  papa  won't  ever  sign  off," 
said  Dolly,  mournfully. 

"To  be  sure  he  won't.  Why,  what  nonsense 
that  is!"  said  Nabby,  with  that  briskness  with 
which  grown  people  shake  off  the  griefs  of  chil 
dren.  "  Of  course  he  won't  when  he's  a  min 
ister,  so  what's  the  use  of  worryin'?  You  jest 


DISSOLVING    VIEWS.  !3 

shot  up  now,  for  I've  got  to  hurry  and  get  tea ; 
'cause  your  pa  and  ma  are  goin'  over  to  the 
lecture  to-night  in  North  Pcganuc  school-house 
and  they'll  want  their  supper  early." 

Dolly  still  hung  about  wishfully. 

"  Nabby,  if  I  should  ask  papa,  and  he  should 
say  I  might  go,  would  you  take  me?"  said  Dolly. 

Now,  Nabby  was  a  good-natured  soul  enough 
and  in  a  general  way  fond  of  children;  she  en 
couraged  Miss  Dolly's  prattling  visits  to  the 
kitchen,  let  her  stand  about  surveying  her 
in  various  domestic  processes,  and  encouraged 
that  free  expression  of  opinion  in  conversation 
which  in  those  days  was  entirely  repressed  on 
the  part  of  juveniles  in  the  presence  of  their 
elders.  She  was,  in  fact,  fond  of  Dolly  in  a  cer 
tain  way,  but  not  fond  enough  of  her  to  inter 
fere  with  the  serious  avocations  of  life;  and 
Nabby  was  projecting  very  serious  and  delicate 
movements  of  diplomacy  that  night.  She  was 
going  to  the  church  with  Jim  Sawin,  who  was 
on  the  very  verge  of  a  declared  admiration,  not 
in  the  least  because  her  heart  inclined  toward 
Jim,  but  as  a  means  of  bringing  Ike  Peters  to 
capitulation  in  a  quarrel  of  some  weeks'  standing. 
Jim  Sawin's  "  folks,"  as  she  would  have  phrased 
it,  were  "  meetin'ers,"  while  Ike  Peters  was  a 
leading  member  of  the  Episcopal  choir,  and  it 
was  designed  expressly  to  aggravate  him  that 


I4  DISSOLVING    VIEWS. 

she  was  to  come  in  exhibiting  her  captive  in 
triumph.  To  have  "a  child  'round  under  her 
feet/'  while  engaged  in  conducting  affairs  of  such 
delicacy,  was  manifestly  impossible — so  impossi 
ble  that  she  thought  stern  repression  of  any  such 
idea  the  very  best  policy. 

"  Now,  Dolly  Gushing,  you  jest  shet  up — for 
'tain't  no  use  talkin'.  Your  pa  nor  your  ma 
wouldn't  hear  on't;  and  besides,  little  girls  like 
you  must  go  to  bed  early.  They  can't  be  up 
'  night-hawkin'/  and  goin'  round  in  the  cold. 
You  might  catch  cold  and  die  like  little  Julia 
Cavers.  Little  girls  must  be  in  bed  and  asleep 
by  eight  o'clock." 

Dolly  stood  still  with  a  lowering  brow.  Just 
then  the  world  looked  very  dark.  Her  little 
rose-leaf  of  an  under  lip  rolled  out  and  quivered, 
and  large  bright  drops  began  falling  one  by  one 
over  her  cheeks. 

Nabby  had  a  soft  spot  in  her  heart,  and  felt 
these  signs  of  affliction;  but  she  stood  firm. 

"Now,  Dolly,  I'm  sorry;  but  you  can't  go. 
So  you  jest  be  a  good  girl  and  not  say  no  more 
about  it,  and  don't  cry,  and  I'll  tell  you  what 
I'll  do  :  I'll  buy  you  a  sugar  dog  down  to  the 
store,  and  I'll  tell  you  all  about  it  to-morrow." 

Dolly  had  seen  these  sugar  dogs  in  the  window 
of  the  store,  resplendent  with  their  blue  backs 
and  yellow  ears  and  pink  tails— designed  prob- 


DISSOLVING    T/A//.V.  I5 

ably  to  represent  dogs  as  they  exist  at  the  end 
of  the  rainbow.  Her  heart  had  burned  within  her 
with  hopeless  desire  to  call  one  of  these  beauties/ 
her  own;  and  Nabby's  promise  brought  out  a 
gleaming  smile  through  the  showery  atmosphere 
of  her  little  face.  A  sugar  dog  might  reconcile 
her  to  life. 

"  Now,  you  must  promise  me  '  certain  true  as 
black  is  blue/  "  said  Nabby,  adjuring  by  an  ap 
parently  irrational  form  of  conjuration  in  vogue 
among  the  children  in  those  times.  "You  must 
promise  you  won't  say  a  word  about  this  'ere 
thing  to  your  pa  or  ma ;  for  they  wouldn't  hear 
of  your  goin',  and  if  they  would  I  shouldn't 
take  you.  I  really  couldn't.  It  would  be  very 
inconvenient." 

DoUy  .heaved  a  great  sigh,  but  thought  of  the 
sugar  dog,  and  calmed  down  the  tempest  that 
seemed  struggling  to  rise  in  her  little  breast.  A 
rainbow  of  hope  rose  over  the  cloud  of  disap 
pointment,  and  a  sugar  dog  with  yellow  ears 
and  pink  tail  gleamed  consolingly  through  it. 


CHAPTER  II. 

DOLLY. 

|UR  little  Dolly  was  a  late  autumn 
chicken,  the  youngest  of  ten  children, 
the  nursing,  rearing  and  caring  for 
whom  had  straitened  the  limited  salary 
of  Parson  Gushing,  of  Poganuc  Center,  and  sorely 
worn  on  the  nerves  and  strength  of  the  good  wife 
who  plied  the  laboring  oar  in  these  performances. 
It  was  Dolly's  lot  to  enter  the  family  at  a  period 
when  babies  were  no  longer  a  novelty,  when  the 
house  was  full  of  the  wants  and  clamors  of  older 
children,  and  the  mother  at  her  very  wits'  end 
with  a  confusion  of  jackets  and  trowsers,  soap, 
candles  and  groceries,  and  the  endless  harass- 
ments  of  making  both  ends  meet  which  pertain 
to  the  lot  of  a  poor  country  minister's  wife.  Con 
sequently  Dolly  was  disposed  of  as  she  grew  up 
in  all  those  short-hand  methods  by  which  chil 
dren  were  taught  to  be  the  least  possible  trouble 
to  their  elders.  She  was  taught  to  come  when 
called,  and  do  as  she  was  bid  without  a  question 
or  argument,  to  be  quenched  in  bed  at  the  earliest 
possible  hour  at  night,  and  to  speak  only  when 

16 


DOLL  Y.  !  7 

spoken  to  in  the  presence  of  her  elders.  All  this 
was  a  dismal  repression  to  Dolly,  for  she  was 
by  nature  a  lively,  excitable  little  thing-,  bursting 
with  questions  that  she  longed  to  ask,  and  with 
comments  and  remarks  that  she  burned  to  make, 
and  so  she  escaped  gladly  to  the  kitchen  where 
Nabby,  the  one  hired  girl,  who  was  much  in 
the  same  situation  of  repressed  communicative 
ness,  encouraged  her  conversational  powers. 

On  the  whole,  although  it  never  distinctly 
occurred  to  Dolly  to  murmur  at  her  lot  in  life 
yet  at  times  she  sighed  over  the  dreadful  insig 
nificance  of  being  only  a  little  girl  in  a  great 
family  of  grown  up  people.  For  even  Dolly's 
brothers  nearest  her  own  age  were  studying  in 
the  academy  and  spouting  scraps  of  superior 
Latin  at  her  to  make  her  stare  and  wonder  at 
their  learning.  They  were  tearing,  noisy,  tem 
pestuous  boys,  good  natured  enough  and  willing 
to  pet  her  at  intervals,  but  prompt  to  suggest 
that  it  was  "time  for  Dolly  to  go  to  bed"  when 
her  questions  or  her  gambols  interfered  with 
their  evening  pleasures. 

Dolly  was  a  robust,  healthy  little  creature, 
never  ailing  in  any  way,  and  consequently  re 
ceived  none  of  the  petting  which  a  more  delicate 
child  might  have  clairned,  and  the  general  course 
of  her  experience  impressed  her  with  the  mournful 
conviction  that  she  was  always  liable  to  be  in  the 


1 8  DOLLY. 

way — as  she  commonly  was,  with  her  childish  cu 
riosity,  her  burning-  desire  to  see  and  hear  and 
know  all  that  interested  the  grown  people  above 
her.  Dolly  sometimes  felt  her  littleness  and  in 
significance  as  quite  a  burden,  and  longed  to  be 
one  of  the  grown-up  people.  They  got  civil  an 
swers  when  they  asked  questions,  instead  of  being 
told  not  to  talk,  and  they  were  not  sent  to  bed 
the  minute  it  was  dark,  no  matter  what  pleasant 
things  were  going  on  about  them.  Once  Dolly 
remembered  to  have  had  sore  throat  with  fever. 
The  doctor  was  sent  for.  Her  mother  put  away 
all  her  work  and  held  her  in  her  arms.  Her 
father  came  down  out  of  his  study  and  sat  up 
rocking  her  nearly  all  night,  and  her  noisy,  rois 
tering  brothers  came  softly  to  her  door  and 
inquired  how  she  Avas,  and  Dolly  was  only  sorry 
that  the  cold  passed  off  so  soon,  and  she  found 
herself  healthy  and  insignificant  as  ever.  Being 
gifted  with  an  active  fancy,  she  sometimes  imag 
ined  a  scene  when  she  should  be  sick  and  die, 
and  her  father  and  mother  and  everybody  would 
cry  over  her,  and  there  would  be  a  funeral  for 
her  as  there  was  for  a  little  Julia  Cavers,  one  of 
her  playmates.  She  could  see  no  drawback  to 
the  interest  of  the  scene  except  that  she  could 
not  be  there  to  enjoy  her  own  funeral  and  see 
how  much  she  was  appreciated ;  so  on  the  whole 
she  turned  her  visions  in  another  direction  and 


DOLLY.  IQ 

fancied  the  time  when  she  should  be  a  grown 
woman  and  at  liberty  to  do  just  as  she  pleased. 

It  must  not  be  imagined,  however,  that 
Dolly  had  an  unhappy  childhood.  Indeed  it 
may  be  questioned  whether,  if  she  had  lived  in 
our  day  when  the  parents  often  seem  to  be  sit 
ting  at  the  feet  of  their  children  and  humbly 
inquiring  after  their  sovereign  will  and  pleasure, 
she  would  have  been  much  happier  than  she 
was.  She  could  not  have  all  she  wanted,  and 
the  most  petted  child  on  earth  cannot.  She  had 
learned  to  do  without  what  she  could  not  get, 
and  to  bear  what  she  did  not  like ;  two  sources 
of  happiness  and  peace  which  we  should  judge 
to  be  unknown  to  many  modern  darlings.  For 
the  most  part  Dolly  had  learned  to  sail  her 
own  little  boat  wisely  among  the  bigger  and 
bustling  crafts  of  the  older  generation. 

There  were  no  amusements  then  specially  pro 
vided  for  children.  There  were  no  children's 
books;  there  were  no  Sunday-schools  to  teach 
bright  little  songs  and  to  give  children  picnics 
and  presents.  It  was  a  grown  people's  world, 
and  not  a  child's  world,  that  existed  in  those 
days.  Even  children's  toys  of  the  period  were 
so  poor  and  so  few  that,  in  comparison  with  our 
modern  profusion,  they  could  scarcely  be  said  to 
exist. 

Dolly,  however,  had  her  playthings,  as  every 


20  DOLL  Y. 

child  of  lively  fancy  will.  Childhood  is  poetic 
and  creative,  and  can  make  to  itself  toys  out  of 
nothing.  Dolly  had  the  range  of  the  great  wood 
pile  in  the  back  yard,  where,  at  the  yearly  "  wood- 
spell,"  the  farmers  deposited  the  fuel  needed  for 
the  long,  terrible  winters,  and  that  woodpile  was 
a  world  of  treasure  to  her.  She  skipped,  and 
sung,  and  climbed  among  its  intricacies  and  found 
there  treasures  of  wonder.  Green  velvet  mosses, 
little  white  trees  of  lichen  that  seemed  to  her  to 
have  tiny  apples  upon  them,  long  grey-bearded 
mosses  and  fine  scarlet  cups  and  fairy  caps  she 
collected  and  treasured.  She  arranged  landscapes 
of  these,  where  green  mosses  made  the  fields, 
and  little  sprigs  of  spruce  and  ground-pine  the 
trees,  and  bits  of  broken  glass  imitated  rivers 
and  lakes,  reflecting  the  overshadowing  banks. 
She  had,  too,  hoards  of  chestnuts  and  walnuts 
which  a  squirrel  might  have  envied,  picked  up 
with  her  own  hands  from  under  the  yellow 
autumn  leaves;  and  she  had — chief  treasure  of 
all— a  wooden  doll,  with  staring  glass  eyes,  that 
had  been  sent  her  by  her  grandmother  in  Boston, 
which  doll  was  the  central  point  in  all  her  ar 
rangements.  To  her  she  showed  the  chestnuts 
and  walnuts;  she  gave  to  her  the  jay's  feathers 
and  the  bluebird's  wing  which  the  boys  had 
given  to  her ;  she  made  her  a  bed  of  divers  colors 
and  she  made  her  a  set  of  tea-cups  out  of  the 


DOLL  Y. 


21 


backbone  of  a  codfish.  She  brushed  and  curled 
her  hair  till  she  took  all  the  curl  out  of  it,  and 
washed  all  the  paint  off  her  cheeks  in  the  zeal 
of  motherly  ablutions. 

In  fact  nobody  suspected  that  Dolly  was  not 
the  happiest  of  children,  as  she  certainly  was  one 
of  the  busiest  and  healthiest,  and  when  that  even 
ing  her  two  brothers  came  in  from  the  Academy, 
noisy  and  breezy,  and  tossed  her  up  in  their  lo;ig 
arms,  her  laugh  rung  gay  and  loud,  as  if  there 
were  no  such  thing  as  disappointment  in  the 
world. 

She  pursed  her  mouth  very  tight  for  fear  that 
she  should  let  out  something  on  the  forbidden 
subject  at  the  supper-table.  But  it  was  evident 
that  nothing  could  be  farther  from  the  mind  of 
-  her  papa,  who,  at  intervals,  was  expounding  to 
his  wife  the  difference  between  natural  and  moral 
inability  as  drawn  out  in  a  pamphlet  he  was 
preparing  to  read  at  the  next  ministers'  meeting 
—remarks  somewhat  interrupted  by  reproof  to 
the  boys  for  giggling  at  table  and  surreptitiously 
feeding  Spring,  the  dog,  in  contravention  of  fam 
ily  rules. 

It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  Will  and  Tom 
Gushing,  though  they  were  minister's  boys,  were 
not  an  courant  in  all  that  was  going  on  note 
worthy  in  the  parish.  In  fact,  they  were  fully 
versed  in  all  the  details  of  the  projected  cere- 


22  DOLLY. 

monies  at  the  church  and  resolved  to  be  in  at 
the  show,  but  maintained  a  judicious  reticence 
as  to  their  intentions  lest,  haply,  they  might  be 
cut  short  by  a  positive  interdict. 

The  Episcopal  church  at  Poganuc  Center  was 
of  recent  origin.  It  was  a  small,  insignificant 
building  compared  with  the  great  square  three- 
decker  of  a  meeting-house  which  occupied  con 
spicuously  the  green  in  Poganuc  Center.  The 
minister  was  not  a  man  particularly  gifted  in  any 
of  those  points  of  pulpit  excellence  which  Dr. 
Gushing  would  be  likely  to  appreciate,  and  the 
Doctor  had  considered  it  hitherto  too  small  and 
unimportant  an  affair  to  be  worth  even  a  combat 
ive  notice;  hence  his  ignorance  and  indifference 
to  what  was  going  on  there.  He  had  heard  inci 
dentally  that  they  were  dressing  the  church  with 
pines  and  going  to  have  a  Christmas  service,  but 
he  only  murmured  something  about  "  tolerabiles 
ineptice"  to  the  officious  deacon  who  had  called 
his  attention  to  the  fact.  The  remark,  being  in 
Latin,  impressed  the  Deacon  with  a  sense  of 
profound  and  hidden  wisdom.  The  people  of 
Poganuc  Center  paid  a  man  a  salary  for  knowing 
more  than  they  did,  and  they  liked  to  have  a 
scrap  of  Latin  now  and  then  to  remind  them 
of  this  fact.  So  the  Deacon  solemnly  informed 
all  comers  into  the  store  who  discussed  recent 
movements  that  the  Doctor  had  his  eyes  open; 


DOLLY.  2-5 

he  knew  all  about  these  doings  and  they  should 
hear  from  him  yet;  the  Doctor  had  expressed 
his  mind  to  him. 

The  Doctor,  in  fact,  was  far  more  occupied 
with  a  certain  Dr.  Pyncheon,  whose  views  of 
moral  inability  he  expected  entirely  to  confound 
by  the  aforesaid  treatise  which  he  had  been  pre 
paring. 

So  after  supper  the  boys  officiously  harnessed 
and  brought  up  the  horse  and  sleigh  destined 
to  take  their  parents  to  North  Poganuc  school 
house,  and  saw  them  set  off— listening  to  the 
last  jingle  of  the  sleigh  bells  with  undisguised 
satisfaction. 

"  Good  !  Now,  Tom,  let's  go  up  to  the  church 
and  get  the  best  places  to  see,"  exclaimed  Bill. 

"Oh,  boys,  are  you  going?"  cried  Dolly,  in  a 
piteous  voice.  "Oh,  do  take  me!  Nabby's 
going,  and  everybody,  and  I  want  to  go." 

"  Oh,  you  mustn't  go ;  you're  a  little  girl  and 
it's  your  bed-time,"  said  Tom  and  Bill,  as  with 
Spring  barking  at  their  heels  they  burst  in  a 
windy  swoop  of  noise  out  of  the  house,  boys 
and  dog  about  equally  intelligent  as  to  what  it 
was  all  about. 


CHAPTER   III. 

THE   ILLUMINATION. 

|EFORE  going  farther  in  our  story  we 
pause  to  give  a  brief  answer  to  the 
queries  that  have  risen  in  the  minds  of 
some  who  remember  the  old  times  in 
New  England :  How  came  there  to  be  any  Epis 
copalians  or  Episcopal  church  in  a  small  Puritan 
town  like  Poganuc? 

The  Episcopal  Church  in  New  England  in  the 
early  days  was  emphatically  a  root  out  of  dry 
ground,  with  as  little  foothold  in  popular  sym 
pathy  as  one  of  those  storm-driven  junipers,  that 
the  east  wind  blows  all  aslant,  has  in  the  rocky 
ledges  of  Cape  Cod.  The  soil,  the  climate,  the 
atmosphere,  the  genius,  and  the  history  of  the 
people  were  all  against  it.  Its  forms  and  cere 
monies  were  all  associated  with  the  persecution 
which  drove  the  Puritans  out  of  England  and 
left  them  no  refuge  but  the  rock-bound  shores 
of  America.  It  is  true  that  in  the  time  of  Gov 
ernor  Winthrop  the  colony  of  Massachusetts 
appealed  with  affectionate  professions  to  their 

Mother,  the  Church  of  England,  and  sought  her 
24 


THE  ILLUMINATION.  25 

sympathy  and  her  prayers ;  but  it  is  also  unfor- 
Umntely  true  that  the  forms  of  the  Church  of 
England  were  cultivated  and  maintained  in  New 
England  by  the  very  party  whose  intolerance 
and  tyranny  brought  on  the  Revolutionary  war. 

All  the  oppressive  governors  of  the  colonies 
were  Episcopalians,  and  in  the  Revolutionary 
struggle  the  Episcopal  Church  was  very  gen 
erally  on  the  Tory  side  ;  hence,  the  New 
Englanders  came  to  have  an  aversion  to  its 
graceful  and  beautiful  ritual  and  forms  for  the 
same  reason  that  the  free  party  in  Spain  and 
Italy  now  loathe  the  beauties  of  the  Romish 
Church,  as  signs  and  symbols  of  tyranny  and 
oppression. 

Congregationalism — or,  as  it  was  then  called 
by  the  common  people,  Presbyterianism — was 
the  religion  established  by  law  in  New  England. 
It  was  the  State  Church.  Even  in  Boston  in  its 
colonial  days,  the  King's  Chapel  and  Old  North 
were  only  dissenting  churches,  unrecognized  by 
the  State,  but  upheld  by  the  patronage  of  the 
colonial  governors  who  were  sent  over  to  them 
from  England.  For  a  long  time  after  the  Revo 
lutionary  war  the  old  rdgimc  of  the  State  Church 
held  undisputed  sway  in  New  England.  There 
was  the  one  meeting-house,  the  one  minister,  in 
every  village.  Every  householder  was  taxed  for 
the  support  of  public  worship,  and  stringent  law 


26  THE  ILLUMINATION. 

and  custom  demanded  of  every  one  a  personal 
attendance  on  Sunday  at  both  services.  If  any 
defaulter  failed  to  put  in  an  appearance  it  was  the 
minister's  duty  to  call  promptly  on  Monday  and 
know  the  reason  why.  There  was  no  place  for 
differences  of  religious  opinion.  All  that  indi 
vidualism  which  now  raises  a  crop  of  various  little 
churches  in  every  country  village  was  sternly 
suppressed.  For  many  years  only  members  of 
churches  could  be  eligible  t'o  public  offices ; 
Sabbath-keeping  was  enforced  with  more  than 
Mosaic  strictness,  and  New  England  justified  the 
sarcasm  which  said  that  they  had  left  the  Lords- 
Bishops  to  be  under  the  Lords-Brethren.  In  those 
days  if  a  sectarian  meeting  of  Methodists  or  Bap 
tists,  or  an  unseemly  gathering  of  any  kind, 
seemed  impending,  the  minister  had  only  to  put 
on  his  cocked  hat,  take  his  gold-headed  cane  and 
march  down  the  village  street,  leaving  his  prohi 
bition  at  every  house,  and  the  thing  was  so  done 
even  as  he  commanded. 

In  the  very  nature  of  things  such  a  state  of 
society  could  not  endure.  The  shock  that  sepa 
rated  the  nation  from  a  king  and  monarchy,  the 
sense  of  freedom  and  independence,  the  hardi 
hood  of  thought  which  led  to  the  founding  of  a 
new  civil  republic,  were  fatal  to  all  religious  con 
straint.  Even  before  the  Revolutionary  war  there 
were  independent  spirits  that  chafed  under  the 


THE  ILLUMINATION.  27 

constraint  of  clerical  supervision,  and  Ethan  Allen 
advertised  his  farm  and  stock  for  sale,  expressing 
his  determination  at  any  cost  to  get  out  of  "  this 
old  holy  State  of  Connecticut." 

It  was  but  a  little  while  after  the  close  of  the 
war    that     established    American    independence 
that   the   revolution   came    which   broke    up   the 
State  Church  and  gave  to  every  man  the  liberty 
of  "signing  off,"  as  it  was  called,  to  any  denom 
ination  that  pleased  him.     Hence  arose  through 
New  England  churches  of   all  names.     The 
cleus  of  the  Episcopal  Church  in  any  place  was 
generally  some  two  or  three  old  families  of  ances 
tral  traditions  in  its  favor,  who  gladly  welcomed 
to  their  fold  any  who,   for  various  causes,  were 
discontented  with  the  standing  order  of  things. 
Then,    too,   there   came   to   them    gentle  spirits,- 
cut  and  bleeding   by  the   sharp  crystals  of  doc 
trinal  statement,  and  courting  the  balm  of  devo 
tional  liturgy  and  the  cool  shadowy  indefiniteness    \^ 
of  more   aesthetic  forms  of   worship.     Also,  any 
one  that  for  any  cause  had  a  controversy  with 
the  dominant  church  took  comfort  in  the  power 
of  "  signing  off"  to  another.      In  those  days,  to 
belong  to  no  church  was  not  respectable,  but  to 
sign  off  to   the   Episcopal   Church   was    often   a  i     «* 
compromise  that  both  gratified  self-will  and  saved  I 
one's  dignity;    and,    having    signed  off,   the  new  \ 
convert   was   obliged,  for  consistency's   sake,   to 


2 3  THE  ILLUMINATION. 

justify  the  step  he  had  taken  by  doing  his  best 
to  uphold  the  doctrine  and  worship  of  his  chosen 
church. 

The  little  edifice  at  Poganuc  had  been  trimmed 
and  arranged  with  taste  and  skill.  For  that  mat 
ter,  it  would  seem  as  if  the  wild  woods  of  New 
England  were  filled  with  garlands  and  decora 
tions  already  made  and  only  waiting  to  be  used 
in  this  graceful  service.  Under  the  tall  spruces 
the  ground  was  all  ruffled  with  the  pretty  wreaths 
of  ground-pine  ;  the  arbor  vitse,  the  spruce, 
the  cedar  and  juniper,  with  their  balsamic  breath, 
I  filled  the  aisles  with  a  spicy  fragrance.  It  was 
!a  cheaply  built  little  church,  in  gothic  forms, 
with  pointed  windows  and  an  arch  over  the 
chancel;  and  every  arch  was  wreathed  with 
green,  and  above  the  chancel  glittered  a  great 
gold  star,  manufactured  by  Miss  Ida  Lewis  out 
of  pasteboard  and  gilt  paper  ordered  in  Boston. 
It  was  not  gold,  but  it  glittered,  and  the  people 
that  looked  on  it  were  not  blase,  as  everybody 
in  our  days  is,  with  sight  seeing.  The  inno 
cent  rustic  life  of  Poganuc  had  no  pageants,  no 
sights,  no  shows,  except  the  eternal  blazonr}^  of 
nature;  and  therefore  the  people  were  prepared 
to  be  dazzled  and  delighted  with  a  star  cut  out 
of  gilt  paper.  There  was  bustling  activity  of 
boys  and  men  in  lighting  the  windows,  and  a 


THE  .  29 

general  rush  of  the  populace  to  get  the  best 
seats. 

"Wai,  now,  this  beats  all!"  said  Hiel  Jones 
the  stage  driver,  who  had  secured  one  of  the 
best  perches  in  the  little  gallery. 

Hiel  Jones,  in  virtue  of  his  place  on  the  high 
seat  of  the  daily  stage  that  drove  through  Poga- 
nuc  Center  on  the  Boston  turnpike,  felt  himself 
invested  with  a  sort  of  grandeur  as  occupying  a 
predominant  position  in  society  from  whence  he 
could  look  down  on  all  its  movements  and  in 
terests.  Everybody  bowed  to  Hiel.  Every 
housekeeper  charged  him  with  her  bundle  or 
commissioned  him  with  her  errand.  Bright-eyed 
damsels  smiled  at  him  from  windows  as  he  drove 
up  to  house-doors,  and  of  all  that  was  going  on 
in  Poganuc  Center,  or  any  of  the  villages  for 
twenty  miles  around,  Hiel  considered  himself 
as  a  competent  judge  and  critic.  Therefore  he 
came  at  an  early  hour  and  assumed  a  seat  where 
he  could  not  only  survey  the  gathering  congre 
gation  but  throw  out  from  time  to  time  a  few 
suggestions  on  the  lighting  up  and  arrangements. 

"  Putty  wal  got  up,  this  'ere,  for  Poganuc 
Center,"  he  said  to  Job  Peters,  a  rather  heavy 
lad  who  had  secured  the  place  beside  him. 

"  Putty  wal,  considerin' !  Take  care  there, 
Siah  Beers,  ye'll  set  them  air  spruce  boughs  afire 
cf  you  ain't  careful  lightin'  your  candles ;  spruce 


3o  THE  ILLUMINATION. 

boughs  go  like  all  natur  ef  ye  once  start  'em. 
These  'ere  things  takes  jedgment,  Siah.  Tell  Ike 
Bissel  there  to  h'ist  his  pole  a  leetle  higher ;  he 
don't  reach  them  air  top  candles ;  what's  the 
feller  thinkin'  of?  Look  out,  Jimmy!  Ef  ye  let 
down  that  top  winder  it  flares  the  candles,  and 
they'll  gutter  like  thunder;  better  put  it  up." 

When  the  church  was  satisfactorily  lighted 
Hiel  began  his  comments  on  the  assembling 
audience : 

"  There  goes  Squire  Lewis  and  Mis'  Lewis 
and  old  lady  Lewis  and  Idy  Lewis  and  the 
Lewis  boys.  On  time,  they  be.  Heads  down 
— sayin'  prayers,  I  s'pose!  Folks  don't  do  so 
t'  our  meetin' ;  but  folks'  ways  is  different.  Bless 
my  soul,  ef  there  ain't  old  Zeph  Higgins,  lookin' 
like  a  last  year's  mullen-stalk !  I  swow,  ef  the 
old  critter  hain't  act'ally  hitched  up  and  come 
down  with  his  hull  team — wife  and  boys  and 
yaller  dog  and  all." 

"  Why,  Zeph  Higgins  ain't  Tiscopal,  is  he?" 
said  Job,  who  was  less  versed  than  Hiel  in 
the  gossip  of  the  day. 

"  Lordy  massy,  yis  !  Hain't  ye  heard  that 
Zeph's  signed  off  two  months  ago,  and  goin'  in 
strong  for  the  Tiscopals?" 

"Wai,  that  air  beats  all,"  said  his  auditor. 
"  Zeph  is  about  the  last  timber  I'd  expect  to 
make  a  'Piscopal  of." 


THE   ILLUMINATION.  3! 

"Oh,  lands!  he  ain't  no  more  'Piscopal  than 
I  be,  Zeph  Higgins  ain't ;  he's  nothin'  but  a  mad 
Presbyterian,  like  a  good  many  o'  the  rest  on 
'em,"  said  Hiel. 

"Why,  what's  he   mad  about?" 

"  Laws,  it's  nothin'  but  that  air  old  business 
about  them  potatoes  that  Zeph  traded  to  Deacon 
Dickenson  a  year  ago.  Come  to  settle  up,  there 
was  about  five  and  sixpence  that  they  couldn't 
'gree  'bout.  Zeph,  he  said  the  deacon  cheated 
him,  and  the  deacon  stood  to  it  he  was  right ; 
and  they  had  it  back  and  forth,  and  the  deacon 
wouldn't  give  in,  and  Zeph  wouldn't.  And 
there  they  stood  with  their  horns  locked  like 
two  bulls  in  a  pastur'  lot.  Wai,  they  had 
'em  up  'fore  the  church,  and  they  was  labored 
with — both  sides.  The  deacon  said,  finally,  he'd 
pay  the  money  for  peace'  sake,  if  Zeph  would 
take  back  what  he  said  'bout  his  bein'  a  cheat 
and  a  liar ;  and  Zeph  he  said  he  wouldn't  take 
nothin'  back ;  and  then  the  church  they  sus 
pended  Zeph ;  and  Zeph  he  signed  off  to  the 
'Piscopals." 

"  I  want  to  know,  now,"  said  Job,  with  a  sat 
isfied  air  of  dawning  comprehension. 

"Yis,  sir,  that  air's  the  hull  on't.  But  I  tell 
you,  Zeph's  led  the  old  deacon  a  dance.  Zeph, 
ye  see,  is  one  o'  them  ropy,  stringy  fellers,  jest 
like  touch-wood-once  get  'em  a  burnin'  and 


32  THE  ILLUMINATION. 

they  keep  on  a  burnin'  night  and  day.  Zeph 
really  sot  up  nights  a  hatin'  the  deacon,  and 
contrivin'  what  he  could  do  agin  him.  Finally, 
it  come  into  his  head  that  the  deacon  got  his 
water  from  a  spring  on  one  of  Zeph's  high  pas- 
tur'  lots.  The  deacon  had  laid  pipes  himself  and 
brought  it  'cross  lots  down  to  his  house.  Wai, 
wat  does  Zeph  do,  without  sayin'  a  word  to  the 
deacon,  but  he  takes  up  all  the  deacon's  logs 
that  carried  the  water  'cross  his  lot,  and  throw'd 
'em  over  the  fence ;  and,  fust  the  deacon's  wife 
knowed,  she  hadn't  a  drop  o'  water  to  wash  or 
cook  with,  or  drink,  nor  nothin'.  Deacon  had 
to  get  all  his  water  carted  in  barrels.  Wai,  they 
went  to  law  'bout  it  and  'tain't  settled  yit ;  but 
Zeph  he  took  Squire  Lewis  for  his  lawyer. 
Squire  Lewis,  ye  see,  he's  the  gret  man  to  the 
'Piscopal  Church.  Folks  say  he  putty  much 
built  this  'ere  church." 

"  Wai,  now,"  said  Job,  after  an  interval  of  med 
itation,  "  I  shouldn't  think  the  'Piscopals  wouldn't 
get  no  gret  advantage  from  them  sort  o'  fel 
lers." 

"That  air's  jest  what  I  was  a  tellin'  on  'em 
over  to  the  store,"  said  Hiel,  briskly.  "  Deacon 
Peasley,  he  was  a  mournin'  about  it.  Lordy 
massy,  deacon,  says  I,  don't  you  worry.  If  them 
'Piscopalians  has  got  Zeph  Higgins  in  their 
camp — why,  they've  bit  off  more  'n  they  can 


THE  ILLUMINATIONS.  33 

chaw,  that's  all.     They'll  find  it  out  one  o'  these 
days — see  if  they  don't." 

"Wai,  but  Zeph's  folks  is  putty  nice  folks, 
now,"  said  Job. 

"  O — wal,  yis — they  be  ;  don't  say  nothin'  agin 
his  folks.  Mis'  Higgins  is  a  meek,  marciful  old 
body,  kind  o'  heart-broken  at  leavin'  Parson 
Gushing  and  her  meetin'.  Then  there's  Nabby, 
and  the  boys.  Wal,  they  sort  o'  like  it — young- 
folks  goes  in  for  new  things.  There's  Nabby 
over  there  now,  come  in  with  Jim  Sawin.  I 
believe  she's  makin'  a  fool  o'  that  'ere  fellow. 
Harnsom  gal,  Nabby  is  —  knows  it  too  —  and 
sarves  out  the  fellers.  Maybe  she'll  go  through 
the  wood  and  pick  up  a  crooked  stick  'fore  she 
knows  it.  I've  sot  up  with  Nabby  myself;  but 
laws,  she  ain't  the  only  gal  in  the  world — plenty 
on  'em  all  'round  the  lot." 

"Why,"  exclaimed  his  neighbor,  "if  there  ain't 
the  minister's  boys  down  there  in  that  front 
slip!" 

"Sartin;  you  may  bet  on  Bill  and  Tom  for 
bein'  into  the  best  seat  whatever 's  goin'  on. 
Likely  boys ;  wide  awake  they  be !  Bill  there 
could  drive  stage  as  well  as  I  can,  only  if  I  didn't 
hold  on  to  him  he  'd  have  us  all  to  the  darnation 
in  five  minutes.  There  's  the  makin'  of  suthin'  in 
that  Bill.  He  '11  go  strong  to  the  Lord  or  to 
the  devil  one  o'  these  days." 


34  THE  ILLUMINATION. 

11  Wai,  what 's  his  father  think  of  his  bein' 
here?'' 

"  Parson  Gushing!  Lordy  massy,  he  don't 
know  nothin'  where  they  be.  Met  him  and  Mis' 
Gushing  jinglin1  over  to  the  Friday  evenin' 
pray er-mee tin'  to  North  Poganuc." 

"Wai,  now,"  said  his  neighbor,  "ef  there  ain't 
Lucius  Jenks  down  there  and  Mis'  Jenks,  and 
all  his  folks." 

"  Yis — yis,  jes'  so.  They  say  Lucius  is  think- 
in'  of  signin'  off  to  the  'Piscopals  to  get  the  trade. 
He  's  jest  sot  up  store,  and  Deacon  Dickenson  's 
got  all  the  ground ;  but  there 's  the  Lewises  and 
the  Copleys  and  the  Danforths  goes  to  the  'Pis- 
copals,  and  they  's  folks  that  lives  well  and  uses 
lots  of  groceries.  I  should  n't  wonder  ef  Lucius 
should  make  a  good  thing  on  't.  Jenks  ain't  one 
that  cares  much  which  church  he  goes  to,  and, 
like  enough,  it  don't  make  much  difference  to 
some  folks." 

"  You  know  this  'ere  minister  they've  got 
here?"  asked  Job. 

"Know  him?  Guess  so!"  said  Hiel,  with  a 
superior  smile.  "  I've  known  Sim  Coan  ever 
since  he  wore  short  jackets.  Sim  comes  from 
over  by  East  Poganuc.  His  gran'ther  was  old 
Gineral  Coan,  a  gret  Tory  he  was,  in  the  war 
times.  Sim's  ben  to  college,  and  he's  putty 
smart  and  chipper.  Come  to  heft  him,  tho',  he 


THE  ILLUMINATION.  35 

don't  weigh  much  'longside  o'  Parson  dishing-. 
He's  got  a  good  voice,  and  reads  well ;  but  come 
to  a  sermon — wal,  ain't  no  gret  heft  m't." 

"  Want  to  know,"  said  his  auditor. 

"Yis,"  said  Hiel,  "but  Sim's  almighty  plucky. 
You'd  think  now,  comm'  into  this  'ere  little  bit  of 
a  church,  right  opposite  Parson  Cushing's  great 
meetin '-house,  and  with  the  biggest  part  of  folks 
goin'  to  meetin',  that  he'd  sing  small  at  fust ;  but 
he  don't.  Lordy  massy,  no  !  He  comes  right  out 
with  it  that  Parson  Gushing  ain't  no  minister, 
and  hain't  got  no  right  to  preach,  nor  administer 
sacraments,  nor  nothin' — nor  nobody  else  but  him 
and  his  'Piscopal  folks,  that's  been  ordained  by 
bishops.  He  gives  it  to  'em,  hip  and  thigh,  I  tell 
you." 

"  That  air  don't  look  reasonable,"  said  Job,  after 
a  few  minutes  of  profound  reflection. 

"  Wal,  Sim  says  this  'ere  thing  has  come 
right  stret  down  from  the  'Postles — one  ordainin* 
another  in  a  steady  string  all  the  way  down  till  it 
come  to  him.  And  Parson  Gushing,  he's  out  in 
the  cold,  'cause  there  hain't  no  bishop  ordained 
him." 

"  Wal,  I  declare  !"  said  the  other.  "  I  think  that 
air 's  cheek." 

"  Ain't  it  now  ?"  said  Hiel.  "  Now,  for  my 
part,  I  go  for  the  man  that  does  his  work  best. 
Here's  all  our  ministers  round  a  savin'  sinners  and 


3 6  THE  ILLUMINATION. 

convartin'  souls,  whether  the  Tostles  ordained 
'em  or  not — that's  what  ministers  is  fur.  I'll  set 
Parson  Gushing  'longside  any  minister — preachin' 
and  teachin'  and  holdin'  meetin's  in  Poganuc 
Center,  and  North  and  South  Poganuc,  and 
gatherm'  church  members,  and  seein'  to  the 
schools,  and  keepin'  every  thing  agoin'.  That 
air  kind  o'  minister  's  good  enough  for  me" 

"  Then  you've  no  thoughts  of  signing  off?" 

"  Not  a  bit  on't.  My  old  mother,  she  thinks 
every  thing  o'  Parson  Gushing.  She's  a  gret  deal 
better  jedge  than  I  be  o'  this  'ere  sort  o'  thing.  1 
shall  go  to  meetin'  with  Mother." 

"  It's  sort  o'  takin'  and  pretty,  though,  this  'ere 
dressing  up  the  church  and  all,"  said  his  neighbor. 

"  Wai,  yis,  V  is  putty,"  said  Hiel,  looking 
around  with  an  air  of  candid  allowance,  "  but 
who  's  going  to  pay  for  it  all  ?  These  'ere  sort 
of  things  chalk  up,  ye  know.  All  these  'ere  taller 
candles  ain't  burnt  out  for  nothing — somebody's 
got  to  foot  the  bills." 

"  Wai,  I  like  the  orgin,"  said  Job.  "  I  wish  we 
had  an  orgin  to  our  meetin'." 

"  Dunno,"  said  Hiel,  loth  to  admit  any  superi 
ority.  "  Wai,  they  wouldn't  a  hed  none  ef  it 
hadn't  been  for  Uncle  Sol  Peters.  You  know  he's 
kind  o'  crazy  to  sing,  and  he  hain't  got  no  ear,  and 
no  more  voice  'n  a  saw-mill,  and  they  wouldn't 
hev  'im  in  our  singer  seats,  and  so  he  went  off  to 


THE  ILLUMINATION*  37 

the  'Piscopals.  And  he  bought  an  orgin  right 
out  and  out,  and  paid  for  it,  and  put  it  in  this 
church  so  that  they'd  let  him  be  in  the  singin'. 
You  know  they  can  make  noise  enough  with  an 
orgin  to  drown  his  voice." 

"  Wai,  it  was  considerable  for  Uncle  Sol  to  do 
— wa'n't  it?"  said  Job. 

"  Laws,  he's  an  old  bachelor,  hain't  got  no  wife 
and  children  to  support,  so  I  s'pose  he  may  as 
well  spend  his  money  that  way  as  any.  Uncle 
Sol  never  could  get  any  gal  to  hev  him.  There 
he  is  now,  try  in'  to  get  'longside  o'  Nabby  Hig- 
gins;  but  you'll  see  he  won't  do  it.  She  knows 
what  she's  about.  Now,  for  my  part,  I  like  our 
singin'  up  to  the  meetin'-house  full  as  wal  as 
this  'ere.  I  like  good  old-fashioned  psalm  tunes, 
with  Ben  Davis  to  lead — that's  the  sort  /  like." 

It  will  have  been  remarked  that  Hiel  was 
one  of  that  common  class  of  Yankees  who  felt 
provided  with  a  ready-made  opinion  of  every 
thing  and  every  subject  that  could  possibly  be 
started,  from  stage-driving  to  apostolic  succes 
sion,  with  a  most  comfortable  opinion  of  the 
importance  of  his  approbation  and  patronage. 

When  the  house  was  filled  and  the  evening 
service  begun  Hiel  looked  down  critically  as 
the  audience  rose  or  sat  down  or  bowed  in  the 
Creed.  The  tones  of  the  small  organ,  leading  the 
choral  chant  and  somewhat  covering  the  uncult- 


3 8  THE  ILLUMINATION. 

ured  roughness  of  the  voices  in  the  choir,  rose 
and  filled  the  green  arches  with  a  solemn  and 
plaintive  sound,  affecting  many  a  heart  that  scarce 
could  give  a  reason  why.  It  was  in  truth  a  very 
sweet  and  beautiful  service,  and  one  calculated  to 
make  a  thoughtful  person  regret  that  the  Church 
of  England  had  ever  expelled  the  Puritan  leaders 
from  an  inheritance  of  such  lovely  possibilities. 
When  the  minister's  sermon  appeared,  however, 
it  proved  to  be  a  spirited  discourse  on  the  obliga 
tion  of  keeping  Christmas,  to  which  Hiel  list 
ened  with  pricked-up  ears,  evidently  bristling 
with  combativeness. 

"  Parson  Gushing  could  knock  that  air  all  to 
flinders ;  you  see  if  he  can't,"  said  Hiel,  the  mo 
ment  the  concluding  services  allowed  him  space 
to  speak  his  mind.  "  Wai,  did  ye  see  old  Zeph 
a-gettin'  up  and  a-settin'  down  in  the  wrong  place, 
and  tryin'  to  manage  his  prayer-book?"  he  said. 
"  It's  worse  than  the  militia  drill — he  never  hits 
right.  I  hed  to  laugh  to  see  him.  Hulloa!  if 
there  ain't  little  Dolly  down  there  in  the  corner, 
under  them  cedars.  How  come  she  out  this  time 
o'  night?  Guess  Parson  Gushing  '11  hev  to  look 
out  for  this  'ere!" 


CHAPTER    IV. 

DOLLY'S  ADVENTURI:. 

]ND,  after  all,  Dolly  was.  there!  Yes, 
she  was.  Human  nature,  which  runs 
wild  with  the  oldest  of  us  at  times,  was 
too  strong  for  poor  little  Dolly. 
Can  any  of  us  look  back  to  the  earlier  days 
of  our  mortal  pilgrimage  and  remember  the  help 
less  sense  of  desolation  and  loneliness  caused  by 
being  forced  to  go  off  to  the  stillness  and  dark 
ness  of  a  solitary  bed  far  from  all  the  beloved 
voices  and  employments  and  sights  of  life?  Can 
we  remember  lying,  hearing  distant  voices,  and 
laughs  of  more  fortunate,  older  people,  and  the 
opening  and  shutting  of  distant  doors,  that  told 
of  scenes  of  animation  and  interest  from  which 
we  were  excluded?  How  doleful  sounded  the 
tick  of  the  clock,  and  how  dismal  was  the  dark 
ness  as  sunshine  faded  from  the  window,  leaving 
only  a  square  of  dusky  dimness  in  place  of  day 
light  ! 

All  who  remember  these  will  sympathize  with 
Dolly,  who    was   hustled   off  to   bed   by    Nabby 

31 


4o  DOLLY'S  ADVENTURE. 

the  minute  supper  was  over,  that  she  might 
have  the  decks  clear  for  action. 

"Now  be  a  good  girl;  shut  your  eyes,  and 
say  your  prayers,  and  go  right  to  sleep,"  had 
been  Nabby's  parting  injunction  as  she  went 
out,  closing  the  door  after  her. 

The  little  head  sunk  into  the  pillow  and  Dolly 
recited  her  usual  liturgy  of  "  Our  Father  who 
art  in  Heaven,"  and  "I  pray  God  to  bless  my 
dear  father  and  mother  and  all  my  dear  friends 
and  relations,  and  make  me  a  good  girl ;"  and 
ending  with 

"  '  Now  I  lay  me  down  to  sleep.'  " 

But  sleep  she  could  not.  The  wide,  bright, 
wistful  blue  eyes  lay  shining  like  two  stars 
towards  the  fading  light  in  the  window,  and  the 
little  ears  were  strained  to  catch  every  sound.  She 
heard  the  shouts  of  Tom  and  Bill  and  the  loud 
barking  of  Spring  as  they  swept  out  of  the  door ; 
and  the  sound  went  to  her  heart.  Spring — her 
faithful  attendant,  the  most  loving  and  sympathetic 
of  dogs,  her  friend  and  confidential  counsellor 
in  many  a  solitary  ramble — Spring  had  gone  with 
the  boys  to  see  the  sight,  and  left  her  alone. 
She  began  to  pity  herself  and  cry  softly  on  her 
pillow.  For  awhile  she  could  hear  Nabby's  en 
ergetic  movements  below,  washing  up  dishes, 
setting  back  chairs,  and  giving  energetic  thumps 


DOLLY'S  ADVENTURE.  4I 

and  bangs  here  and  there,  as  her  way  was  of 
producing  order.  But  by  and  by  that  was  all 
over,  and  she  heard  the  loud  shutting  of  the 
kitchen  door  and  Nabby's  voice  chatting  with 
her  attendant  as  she  went  off  to  the  scene  of 
gaiety. 

In  those  simple,  innocent  days  in  New  England 
villages  nobody  thought  of  locking  house  doors 
at  night.  There  was  in  those  times  no  idea  either 
of  tramps  or  burglars,  and  many  a  night  in  sum 
mer  had  Dolly  lain  awake  and  heard  the  voices  of 
tree-toads  and  whippoorwills  mingling  with  the 
whisper  of  leaves  and  the  swaying  of  elm  boughs, 
while  the  great  outside  door  of  the  house  lay 
broad  open  in  the  moonlight.  But  then  this  was 
when  everybody  was  in  the  house  and  asleep, 
when  the  door  of  her  parents'  room  stood  open 
on  the  front  hall,  and  she  knew  she  could  run  to 
the  paternal  bed  in  a  minute  for  protection. 
Now,  however,  she  knew  the  house  was  empty. 
Everybody  had  gone  out  of  it ;  and  there  is  some 
thing  fearful  to  a  little  lonely  body  in  the  possi 
bilities  of  a  great,  empty  house.  She  got  up  and 
opened  her  door,  and  the  "  tick-tock"  of  the  old 
kitchen  clock  for  a  moment  seemed  like  company ; 
but  pretty  soon  its  ticking  began  to  strike  louder 
and  louder  with  a  nervous  insistancy  on  her  ear, 
till  the  nerves  quivered  and  vibrated,  and  she 
couldn't  go  to  sleep.  She  lay  and  listened  to  all 


42  DOLLY'S  ADVENTURE. 

the  noises  outside.  It  was  a  still,  clear,  freezing 
night,  when  the  least  sound  clinked  with  a  me 
tallic  resonance.  She  heard  the  runners  of 
sleighs  squeaking  and  crunching  over  the  frozen 
road,  and  the  lively  jingle  of  bells.  They  would 
come  nearer,  nearer,  pass  by  the  house,  and  go 
off  in  the  distance.  Those  were  the  happy  folks 
going  to  see  the  gold  star  and  the  Christmas 
greens  in  the  church.  The  gold  star,  the  Christ 
mas  greens,  had  all  the  more  attraction  from  their 
vagueness.  Dolly  was  a  fanciful  little  creature, 
and  the  -clear  air  and  romantic  scenery  of  a  moun 
tain  town  had  fed  her  imagination.  Stories  she 
had  never  read,  except  those  in  the  Bible  and  the 
Pilgrim's  Progress,  but  her  very  soul  had  vibrated 
with  the  descriptions  of  the  celestial  city — some 
thing  vague,  bright,  glorious,  lying  beyond  some 
dark  river;  and  Nabby's  rude  account  of  what 
was  going  on  in  the  church  suggested  those 
images. 

Finally  a  bright  thought  popped  into  her  little 
head.  She  could  see  the  church  from  the  front 
windows  of  the  house ;  she  would  go  there  and 
look.  In  haste  she  sprang  out  of  bed  and  dressed 
herself.  It  was  sharp  and  freezing  in  the  fire- 
less  chamber,  but  Dolly's  blood  had  a  racing, 
healthy  tingle  to  it ;  she  didn't  mind  cold.  She 
wrapped  her  cloak  around  her  and  tied  on  her 
hood  and  ran  to  the  front  windows.  There  it 


DOLLY'S  ADVENTURE.  43 

was,  to  be  sure — the  little  church  with  its  sharp- 
pointed  windows  every  pane  of  which  was  sending 
streams  of  light  across  the  glittering  snow.  There 
was  a  crowd  around  the  door,  and  men  and  boys 
looking  in  at  the  windows.  Dolly's  soul  was  fired. 
But  the  elm-boughs  a  little  obstructed  her  vision  ; 
she  thought  she  would  go  down  and  look  at  it 
from  the  yard.  So  down  stairs  she  ran,  but  as 
she  opened  the  door  the  sound  of  the  chant  rolled 
out  into  the  darkness  with  a  sweet  and  solemn 
sound : 

"  Glory  be  to  God  on  high;  and  on  cartJi  peace, 
good  iv ill  towards  men" 

Dolly's  soul  was  all  aglow — her  nerves  tingled  1 
and  vibrated  ;  she  thought  of  the  bells  ringing 
in  the  celestial  city ;  she  could  no  longer  contain 
herself,  but  faster  and  faster  the  little  hooded 
form  scudded  across  the  snowy  plain  and  pushed 
in  among  the  dark  cluster  of  spectators  at  the 
door.  All  made  way  for  the  child,  and  in  a 
moment,  whether  in  the  body  or  out  she  could 
not  tell,  Dolly  was  sitting  in  a  little  nook  under 
a  bower  of  spruce,  gazing  at  the  star  and  lis 
tening  to  the  voices: 

"  We  praise  Thee,  we  bless  Thee,  we  worship  Thee, 
we  glorify  Thee,  we  give  thanks  to  tJicc  for  thy 
great  glory,  O  Lord  God,  Heavenly  King,  God,  the 
Father  A I  mighty.' ' 

Her   heart   throbbed    and   beat ;  she   trembled  ' 


44 


DOLLY'S  ADVENTURE. 


with  a  strange  happiness  and  sat  as  one  entranced 
till  the  music  was  over.  Then  came  reading, 
the  rustle  and  murmur  of  people  kneeling,  and 
then  they  all  rose  and  there  was  the  solemn 
buzz  of  voices  repeating  the  Creed  with  a  curious 
lulling  sound  to  her  ear.  There  was  old  Mr. 
Danforth  with  his  spectacles  on,  reading  with  a 
pompous  tone,  as  if  to  witness  a  good  confession 
for  the  church ;  and  there  was  Squire  Lewis 
and  old  Ma'am  Lewis ;  and  there  was  one  place 
where  they  all  bowed  their  heads  and  all  the 
ladies  made  courtesies — all  of  which  entertained 
her  mightily. 

When  the  sermon  began  Dolly  got  fast  asleep 
and  slept  as  quietly  as  a  pet  lamb  in  a  meadow, 
lying  in  a  little  warm  roll  back  under  the 
shadows  of  the  spruces.  She  was  so  tired  and 
so  sound  asleep  that  she  did  not  wake  when  the 
service  ended,  lying  serenely  curled  up,  and  hav 
ing  perhaps  pleasant  dreams.  She  might  have 
had  the  fortunes  of  little  Goody  Two-Shoes, 
whose  history  was  detailed  in  one  of  the  few 
children's  books  then  printed,  had  not  two  friends 
united  to  find  her  out. 

Spring,  who  had  got  into  the  slip  with  the 
boys,  and  been  an  equally  attentive  and  edified 
listener,  after  service  began  a  tour  of  investiga 
tion,  dog-fashion,  with  his  nose ;  for  how  could 
a  minister's  dog  form  a  suitable  judgment  of  any 


DOLLY^S  ADVENTURE.  45 

nc\v  procedure  if  he  was  repressed  from  the  use 
of  his  own  leading  faculty?  So,  Spring  went 
round  the  church  conscientiously,  smelling  at 
pew-doors,  smelling  of  the  greens,  smelling  at  the 
heels  of  gentlemen  and  ladies,  till  he  came  near 
the  door  of  the  church,  when  he  suddenly  smelt 
something  which  called  for  immediate  attention, 
and  he  made  a  side  dart  into  the  thicket  where 
Dolly  was  sleeping,  and  began  licking  her  face 
and  hands  and  pulling  her  dress,  giving  short 
barks  occasionally,  as  if  to  say,  "  Come,  Dolly, 
wake  up !"  At  the  same  instant  Hiel,  who 
had  seen  her  from  the  gallery,  came  down  just 
as  the  little  one  was  sitting  up  with  a  dazed, 
bewildered  air. 

"  Why,  Dolly,  how  came  you  out  o'  bed  this 
time  o'  night!  Don't  ye  know  the  nine  o'clock 
bell's  jest  rung?" 

Dolly  knew  Hiel  well  enough — what  child  in 
the  village  did  not!  She  reached  up  her  little 
hands  saying  in  an  apologetic  fashion, 

"They  were  all  gone  away,  and  I  was  so 
lonesome !" 

Hiel  took  her  up  in  his  long  arms  and  car 
ried  her  home,  and  was  just  entering  the  house- 
door  with  her  as  the  sleigh  drove  up  with  Par 
son  dishing  and  his  wife. 

"  Wai,  Parson,  your  folks  has  all  ben  to  the 
'lumination — Nabby  and  Bill  and  Tom  and  Dolly 


46  DOLLY'S  ADVENTURE. 

here ;  found  her  all  rolled  up  in  a  heap  like  a 
rabbit  under  the  cedars." 

"Why,  Dolly  Gushing!"  exclaimed  her  mother. 
"  What  upon  earth  got  you  out  of  bed  this  time 
of  night?  You'll  catch  your  death  o'  cold." 

"  I  was  all  alone,"  said  Dolly,  with  a  piteous 
bleat. 

"Oh,  there,  there,  wife;  don't  say  a  word," 
put  in  the  Parson,  "Get  her  off  to  bed.  Never 
mind,  Dolly,  don't  you  cry;"  for  Parson  dish 
ing  was  a  soft-hearted  gentleman  and  couldn't 
bear  the  sight  of  Dolly's  quivering  under  lip. 
So  Dolly  told  her  little  story,  how  she  had  been 
promised  a  sugar  dog  by  Nabby  if  she'd  be  a 
good  girl  and  go  to  sleep,  and  how  she  couldn't 
go  to  sleep,  and  how  she  just  went  down  to 
look  from  the  yard,  and  how  the  music  drew 
her  right  over. 

"  There,  there,"  said  Parson  Gushing,  "  go  to 
bed,  Dolly ;  and  ii  Nabby  don't  give  you  a  sugar 
dog,  I  will. 

"  This  Christmas  dressing  is  all  nonsense,"  he 
added,  "  but  the  child  's  not  to  blame — it  was 
natural." 

"  After  all,"  he  said  to  his  wife  the  last  thing  after 
they  were  settled  for  the  night,  "  our  little  Dolly 
is  an  unusual  child.  There  were  not  many  little 
girls  that  would  have  dared  to  do  that.  I  shall 
preach  a  sermon  right  away  that  will  set  all  this 


DOLLY'S  ADVENTURE.  47 

Christmas  matter  straight,"  said  the  doctor. 
"  There  is  not  a  shadow  of  evidence  that  the  first 
Christians  kept  Christmas.  It  wasn't  kept  for  the 
first  three  centuries,  nor  was  Christ  born  any 
where  near  the  25th  of  December." 


CHAPTER   V. 

DOLLY'S  FIRST  CHRISTMAS  DAY. 

HE  next  morning  found  little  Dolly's 
blue  eyes  wide  open  with  all  the  won 
dering  eagerness  of  a  new  idea.  In 
those  early  times  the  life  of  childhood 
was  much  more  in  the  imagination  than  now. 
Children  were  let  alone,  to  think  their  own 
thoughts.  There  were  no  kindergartens  to  train 
the  baby  to  play  philosophically,  and  infuse  a 
stealthy  aroma  of  geometry  and  conic  sections 
into  the  very  toys  of  the  nursery.  Parents  were 
not  anxiously  watching  every  dawning  idea  of 
the  little  mind  to  set  it  stra  ght  even  before  it 
was  uttered;  and  there  were  then  no  newspapers 
or  magazines  with  a  special  corner  for  the  bright 
sayings  of  children. 

Not  that  children  were  "any  less  beloved,  or 
motherhood  a  less  holy  thing.  There  were  many 
women  of  de^p  hearts,  who,  like  the  "  most 
blessed  among  women,"  kept  all  the  sayings  of 
their  darlings  and  pondered  them  in  their  hearts; 
but  it  was.  not  deemed  edifying  or  useful  to  pay 
43 


DOLLY'S  FIRST  CHRISTMAS  DAY.  49 

much  apparent  attention  to  these  utterances  and 
actions  of  the  youthful  pilgrim. 

Children's  inquiries  were  freely  put  off  with 
the  general  answer  that  Mamma  was  busy  and 
they  must  not  talk — that  when  they  were  grown 
up  they  would  know  all  about  these  things,  etc. ; 
and  so  they  lived  apart  from  older  people  in 
their  own  little  child-world  of  uninvaded  ideas. 

Dolly,  therefore,  had  her  wise  thoughts  about 
Christmas.  She  had  been  terribly  frightened  at 
first,  when  she  was  brought  home  from  the 
church  ;  but  when  her  papa  kissed  her  and 
promised  her  a  sugar  dog  she  was  quite  sure 
that,  whatever  the  unexplained  mystery  might, 
be,  he  did  not  think  the  lovely  scene  of  the  night 
before  a  wicked  one.  And  when  Mrs.  Gushing 
came  and  covered  the  little  girl  up  warmly  in 
bed,  she  only  said  to  her,  "  Dolly,  you  must  never 
get  out  of  bed  again  at  night  after  you  are  put 
there  ;  you  might  have  caught  a  dreadful  cold 
and  been  sick  and  died,  and  then  we  should  have 
lost  our  little  Dolly."  So  Dolly  promised  quite 
readily  to  be  good  and  lie  still  ever  after,  no 
matter  what  attractions  might  be  on  foot  in  the 
community. 

]  Much  was  gained,  however,  and  it  was  all  clear 
gain;  and  forthwith  the  little  fanciful  head  pro 
ceeded  to  make  the  most  of  it,  thinking  over 
every  feature  of  the  wonder.  The  child  had  a 


5o  DOLLY'S  FIRST  CHRISTMAS  DAY. 

vibrating,  musical  organization,  and  the  sway  and 
rush  of  the  chanting  still  sounded  in  her  ears 
and  reminded  her  of  that  Avonderful  story  in  the 
"  Pilgrim's  Progress/'  where  the  gate  of  the 
celestial  city  swung  open,  and  there  were  voices 
that  sung,  "  Blessing  and  honor  and  glory  and 
power  be  unto  Him  who  sitteth  on  the  throne." 
And  then  .that  wonderful  star,  that  shone  just 
as  if  it  were  a  real  star — how  could  it  be !  For 
Miss  Ida  Lewis,  being  a  young  lady  of  native 
artistic  genius,  had  cut  a  little  hole  in  the  center 
of  her  gilt  paper  star,  behind  which  was  placed 
a  candle,  so  that  it  gave  real  light,  in  a  way  most 
astonishing  to  untaught  eyes.  In  Dolly's  simple 
view  it  verged  on  the  supernatural — perhaps  it 
was  the  very  real  star  read  about  in  the  gospel 
story.  Why  not  ?  Dolly  was  at  the  happy  age 
when  anything  bright  and  heavenly  seemed  cred 
ible,  and  had  the  child-faith  to  which  all  things 
were  possible.  She  had  even  seriously  pondered 
at  times  the  feasibility  of  walking  some  day  to 
the  end  of  the  rainbow  to  look  for  the  pot  of 
gold  which  Nabby  had  credibly  assured  her  was 
to  be  found  there ;  and  if  at  any  time  in  her 
ramblings  through  the  wood  a  wolf  had  met  her 
and  opened  a  conversation,  as  in  the  case  of 
little  Red  Riding  Hood,  she  would  have  been 
no  way  surprised,  but  kept  up  her  part  of  the 
interview  with  becoming  spirit. 


DOLLY'S  FIRST  CHRISTMAS  DAY.  ^ 

"  I  wish,  my  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Gushing,  after 
they  were  retired  to  their  room  for  the  night, 
"  that  to-morrow  morning  you  would  read  the 
account  of  the  birth  of  Christ  in  St.  Matthew; 
and  give  the  children  some  good  advice  upon 
the  proper  way  of  keeping  Christmas." 

"  Well,  but  you  know  we  don't  keep  Christmas; 
nobody  knows  anything  about  Christmas,"  said 
the  Doctor. 

"You  know  what  I  mean,  my  dear,"  replied 
his  wife.  "  You  know  that  my  mother  and  her 
family  do  keep  Christmas.  I  always  heard  of  it 
when  I  was  a  child  ;  and  even  now,  though  I 
have  been  out  of  the  way  of  it  so  long,  I  cannot 
help  a  sort  of  kindly  feeling  towards  these  ways. 
I  am  not  surprised  at  all  that  the  children  got 
drawn  over  last  night  to  the  service.  I  think 
it's  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world,  and  I 
know  by  experience  just  how  attractive  such 
things  are.  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  this  Episcopal 
church  should  draw  very  seriously  on  your  con 
gregation  ;  but  I  don't  want  it  to  begin  by  taking 
away  our  own  children.  Dolly  is  an  inquisitive 
child ;  a  child  that  thinks  a  good  deal,  and  she'll 
be  asking  all  sorts  of  questions  about  the  why 
and  wherefore  of  what  she  saw  last  night." 

"Oh,  yes,  Dolly  is  a  bright  one.  Dolly's  an 
uncommon  child,"  said  the  Doctor,  who  had  a 
pardonable  pride  in  his  children — they  being,  in 


EJ  2  DOLLY'S  FIRST  CHRISTMAS  DAY. 

fact,  the  only  worldly  treasure  that  he  was  at  all 
rich  in. 

"  And  as  to  that  little  dress-up  affair  over 
there,"  he  continued,  "  I  don't  think  any  real 
harm  has  been  done  as  yet.  I  have  my  eyes 
open.  I  know  all  about  it,  and  I  shall  straighten 
out  this  whole  matter  next  Sunday,"  he  said,  with 
the  comfortable  certainty  of  a  man  in  the  habit 
of  carrying  his  points. 

"  I  don't  feel  so  very  sure  of  that,"  said  his 
wife  ;  "  at  the  same  time  I  shouldn't  want  any 
thing  like  an  open  attack  on  the  Episcopalians. 
There  are  sincere  good  people  of  that  way  of 
thinking — my  mother,  for  instance,  is  a  saint  on 
earth,  and  so  is  good  old  Madam  Lewis.  So  pray 
be  careful  what  you  say." 

"  My  dear,  I  haven't  the  least  objection  to 
their  dressing  their  church  and  having  a  good 
Christian  service  any  day  in  the  year  if  they 
want  to,  but  our  people  may  just  as  well  under 
stand  our  own  ground.  I  know  that  the  Demo 
crats  are  behind  this  new  move,  and  they  are 
just  using  this  church  to  carry  their  own  party 
purposes — to  break  up  the  standing  order  and 
put  down  all  the  laws  that  are  left  to  protect 
religion  and  morals.  They  want  to  upset  every 
thing  that  our  fathers  came  to  New  England  to 
establish.  But  I'm  going  to  head  this  thing  off 


DOLLY'S  FIRST   CHRISTMAS  DA  Y.  53 

in  Poganuc.  I  shall  write  a  sermon  to-morrow, 
and  settle  matters." 

Now,  there  is  no  religious  organization  in  the 
world  in  its  genius  and  history  less  likely  to 
assimilate  with  a  democratic  movement  than  the 
Episcopal  Church.  It  is  essentially  aristocratic 
in  form,  and,  in  New  England,  as  we  have  already 
noticed,  had  always  been  on  the  side  of  mo 
narchical  institutions. 

But,  just  at  this  point  in  the  history  of  New 
England  affairs,  all  the  minor  denominations  were 
ready  to  join  any  party  that  promised  to  break 
the  supremacy  of  the  State  Church  and  give 
them  a  foothold. 

It  was  the  "  Democratic  party"  of  that  day 
that  broke  up  the  exclusive  laws  in  favor  of  the 
Congregational  Church  and  consequently  gained 
large  accessions  to  their  own  standard.  To  use 
a  brief  phrase,  all  the  outs  were  Democrats,  and 
all  the  ins  Federalists.  But  the  Democratic 
party  had,  as  always, its  radical  train.  Not  satis 
fied  with  wresting  the  scepter  from  the  hands  of 
the  Congregational  clergyman,  and  giving  equal 
rights  and  a  fair  field  to  other  denominations, 
the  cry  was  now  to  abolish  all  laws  in  any  way 
protective  of  religious  institutions,  or  restrictive 
of  the  fullest  personal  individualism ;  in  short, 
the  cry  was  for  the  liberty  of  every  man  to  go 
to  church  or  not,  to  keep  the  Sabbath  or  not,  to 


54 


DOLLY'S  FIRST  CHRISTMAS  DAY. 


support -a  minister  or  not,  as  seemed  good  and 
proper  in  his  own  eyes. 

This  was  in  fact  the  final  outcome  of  things 
in  New  England,  and  experience  has  demon 
strated  that  this  wide  and  perfect  freedom  is  the 
best  way  of  preserving  religion  and  morals.  But 
it  was  not  given  to  a  clergyman  in  the  day  of 
Dr.  Gushing,  who  had  hitherto  felt  that  a  state 
ought  to  be  like  a  well-governed  school,  under 
the  minister  for  schoolmaster,  to  look  on  the 
movements  of  the  Democratic  party  otherwise 
than  as  tending  to  destruction  and  anarchy.  This 
new  movement  in  the  Episcopal  Church  he  re 
garded  as  but  a  device  by  appeals  to  the  senses — 
by  scenic  effects,  illuminations  and  music — to  draw 
people  off  to  an  unspiritual  and  superficial  form 
I  of  religion,  which,  having  once  been  the  tool  of 
monarchy  and  aristocracy,  had  now  fallen  into 
the  hands  of  the  far  more  dangerous  democracy  ; 
and  he  determined  to  set  the  trumpet  to  his 
mouth  on  the  following  Sabbath,  and  warn  the 
watchmen  on  the  walls  of  Zion. 

He  rose  up  early,  however,  and  proceeded  to 
buy  a  sugar  dog  at  the  store  of  Lucius  Jenks, 
and  when  Dolly  came  down  to  breakfast  he 
called  her  to  him  and  presented  it,  saying  as  he 
kissed  her, 

"  Papa  gives  you  this,  not  because  it  is  Christ 
mas,  but  because  he  loves  his  little  Dolly." 


DOLLY'S  FIRST  CHRISTMAS  DAY.  ^ 

"But  isnt  it  Christmas?"  asked  Dolly,  with 
a  puzzled  air. 

"  No,  child ;  nobody  knows  when  Christ  was 
born,  and  there  is  nothing  in  the  Bible  to  tell  us 
when  to  keep  Christmas." 

And  then  in  family  worship  the  doctor  read 
the  account  of  the  birth  of  Christ  and  of  the 
shepherds  abiding  in  the  fields  who  came  at  the 
call  of  the  angels,  and  they  sung  the  old  hymn : 

"  While  shepherds  watched  their  flocks  by  night." 

"  Now,  children,"  he  said  when  all  was  over, 
"you  must  be  good  children  and  go  to  school. 
If  we  are  going  to  keep  any  day  on  account 
of  the  birth  of  Christ,  the  best  way  to  keep  it 
is  by  doing  all  our  duties  on  that  day  better  than 
any  other.  Your  duty  is  to  be  good  children, 
go  to  school  and  mind  your  lessons." 

Tom  and  Bill,  who  had  been  at  the  show  the 
evening  before  and  exhausted  the  capabilities 
of  the  scenic  effects,  were  quite  ready  to  fall  in 
with  their  father's  view  of  the  matter.  The  can 
dles  were  burnt  out,  the  play  over,  for  them,  and 
forthwith  they  assumed  to  look  down  on  the 
whole  with  the  contempt  of  superior  intelligence. 
As  for  Dolly,  she  put  her  little  tongue  advis 
edly  to  the  back  of  her  sugar  dog  and  found 
that  he  was  very  sweet  indeed — a  most  tempt- 


5  6  DOLLY'S  FIRST   CHRISTMAS  DAY. 

ing  little  animal.  She  even  went  so  far  as 
to  nibble  off  a  bit  of  the  green  ground,  he 
stood  on — yet  resolved  heroically  not  to  eat 
him  at  once,  but  to  make  him  last  as  long  as 
possible.  She  wrapped  him  tenderly  in  cotton 
and  took  him  to  the  school  with  her,  and  when 
her  confidential  friend,  Bessie  Lewis,  displayed 
her  Christmas  gifts,  Dolly  had  something  on  her 
side  to  show,  though  she  shook  her  curly  head 
wisely  and  informed  Bessie  in  strict  confidence 
that  there  wasn't  any  such  thing  as  Christmas, 
her  papa  had  told  her  so — a  heresy  which  Bessie 
forthwith  reported  when  she  went  home  at  noon. 

"Poor  little  Presbyterian — and  did  she  say  so?" 
asked  gentle  old  Grandmamma  Lewis.  "Well, 
dear,  you  mustn't  blame  her — she  don't  know 
any  better.  You  bring  the  little  thing  in  here 
to-night  and  I'll  give  her  a  Christmas  cookey. 
I'm  sorry  for  such  children." 

And  so,  after  school,  Dolly  went  in  to  see 
dear  old  Madam  Lewis,  who  sat  in  her  rocking- 
chair  in  the  front  parlor,  where  the  fire  was 
snapping  behind  great  tall  brass  andirons  and 
all  the  pictures  were  overshadowed  with  boughs 
of  spruce  and  pine.  Dolly  gazed  about  her  with 
awe  and  wonder.  Over  one  of  the  pictures  was 
suspended  a  cross  of  green  with  flowers  of 
white  everlasting. 

"What  is  that  for?"  asked  Dolly,  pointing  sol- 


DOLLY'S  FIRST  CHRISTMAS  DAY.  ^f 

emnly  with  her  little  forefinger,  and  speaking 
under  her  breath. 

"  Dear  child,  that  is  the  picture  of  my  poor* 
boy  who  died — ever  so  many  years  ago.  That 
is  my  cross — we  have  all  one — to  carr}\" 

Dolly  did  not  half  understand  these  words, 
but  she  saw  tears  in  the  gentle  old  lady's  eyes 
and  was  afraid  to  ask  more. 

She  accepted  thankfully  and  with  her  nicest 
and  best  executed  courtesy  a  Christmas  cookey 
representing  a  good-sized  fish,  with  fins  all  spread 
and  pink  sugar-plums  for  eyes,  and  went  home 
marveling  yet  more  about  this  mystery  of  Christ 
mas. 

As  she  was  crossing  the  green  to  go  home 
the  Poganuc  stage  drove  in,  with  Hiel  seated 
on  high,  whipping  up  his  horses  to  make  them 
execute  that  grand  cntrde  which  was  the  glory 
of  his  daily  existence. 

Now  that  the  stage  was  on  runners,  and 
slipped  noiselessly  over  the  smooth  frozen  plain, 
Hiel  cracked  his  whip  more  energetically  and 
shouted  louder,  first  to  one  horse  and  then  to 
another,  to  make  up  for  the  loss  of  the  rattling 
wheels;  and  he  generally  had  the  satisfaction 
of  seeing  all  the  women  rushing  distractedly  to 
doors  and  windows,  and  imagined  them  saying, 
"  There's  Hiel;  the  stage  is  in!" 

"  Hulloa,   Dolly !"  he  called   out,   drawing   up 


5S  DOLLY'S   FIRST  CHRISTMAS  DAY. 

with  a  suddenness  which  threw  the  fore-horses 
back  upon  their  haunches.  "  I've  got  a  bundle 
for  your  folks.  Want  to  ride?  You  may  jest 
jump  up  here  by  me  and  I'll  take  you  'round  to 
your  father's  door;"  and  so  Dolly  reached  up 
her  little  red-mittened  hand,  and  Hiel  drew  her 
up  beside  him. 

"  'Xpect  ye  want  a  bit  of  a  ride,  and  I've  got 
a  bundle  for  Widder  Badger,  down  on  South 
Street,  so  I  guess  I'll  go  'round  that  way  to 
make  it  longer.  I  'xpect  this  'ere  bundle  is  from 
some  of  your  ma's  folks  in  Boston — Tiscopals 
they  be,  and  keeps  Christmas.  Good  sized  bun 
dle  'tis ;  reckon  it  '11  come  handy  in  a  good 
many  ways." 

So,  after  finishing  his  detour,  Hiel  landed  his 
little  charge  at  the  parsonage  door. 

"  Reckon  I'll  be  over  when  I've  put  up  my 
hosses,"  he  said  to  Nabby  when  he  handed  down 
the  bundle  to  her.  "  I  hain't  been  to  see  ye 
much  lately,  Nabby,  and  I  know  you've  been  a 
pinin'  after  me,  but  fact  is — 

"  Well,  now,  Hiel  Beers,  you  jest  shet  up  with 
your  imperence,"  said  Nabby,  with  flashing  eyes; 
"you  jest  look  out  or  you'll  get  suthin." 

"  I  'xpect  to  get  a  kiss  when  I  come  round 
to-night,"  said  Hiel,  composedly.  "  Take  care 
o'  that  air  bundle,  now ;  mebbe  there  's  glass 
or  crockery  in  't." 


DOLLY'S  FIRST  CHRISTMAS  DAY.  59 

"  Hiel  Beers,"  said  Nabby,  "  don't  give  me 
none  o'  your  saace,  for  I  won't  take  it.  Jim 
Sawin  said  last  night  <4  ou  was  the  brassiest  man 
he  ever  see.  He  said  there  was  brass  enough 
in  your  face  to  make  a  kettle  of." 

"  You  tell  him  there's  sap  enough  in  his  head 
to  fill  it,  any  way,"  said  Hiel.  "  Good  bye, 
Nabby,  I  '11  come  'round  this  evenin',"  and  he 
drove  away  at  a  rattling  pace,  while  Nabby,  with 
flushed  cheeks  and  snapping  eyes,  soliloquized, 

"  Well,  I  hope  he  will  come !  I  'd  jest  like  a 
chance  to  show  him  how  little  I  care  for  him." 

Meanwhile  the  bundle  was  soon  opened,  and 
contained  a  store  of  treasures:  a  smart  little 
red  dress  and  a  pair  of  red  shoes  for  Dolly,  a 
half  dozen  pocket-handkerchiefs  for  Dr.  Gushing, 
and  u  Robinson  Crusoe"  and  "Sanford  and  Mer- 
ton,"  handsomely  bound,  for  the  boys,  and  a  bon 
net  trimming  for  Mrs.  Gushing.  These  were  ac 
companied  by  a  characteristic  letter  from  Aunt 
Debby  Kittery,  opening  as  follows: 

"  DEAR  SISTER  : 

"  Mother  worries  because  she  thinks  you  Presby 
terians  won't  get  any  Christmas  presents.  I  tell  her 
it  serves  you  right  for  being  out  of  the  true  church. 
However,  this  co.nes  to  give  every  one  of  you  some  of 
the  crumbs  which  fall  from  the  church's  table,  and 
Mother  says  she  wishes  you  all  a  pious  Christmas,  which 
she  thinks  is  better  than  a  merry  one.  If  I  did  n't  lay 
violent  hands  on  her  she  would  use  all  our  substance 


60  DOLLY'S  FIRST  CHRISTMAS  DAY. 

in  riotous  giving  of  Christmas  presents  to  all  the  beggars 
and  chimney  sweeps  in  Boston.  She  is  in  good  health 
and  talks  daily  of  wanting  to  see  you  and  the  children ; 
and  I  hope  before  long  you  will  bring  some  of  them,  and 
come  and  make  us  a  visit. 

"  Your  affectionate  sister, 

"  DEBBY  KITTERY." 

There  was  a  scene  of  exultation  and  clamor 
in  the  parsonage  as  these  presents  were  pulled 
out  and  discussed ;  and  when  all  possible  joy  was 
procured  from  them  in  the  sitting-room,  the  chil 
dren  rushed  in  a  body  into  the  kitchen  and 
showed  them  to  Nabby,  calling  on  her  to  join 
their  acclamations. 

And  then  in  the  evening  Hiel  came  in,  and 
Nabby  prosecuted  her  attacks  upon  him  with 
great  vigor  and  severity,  actually  carrying  mat 
ters  to  such  a  length  that  she  was  obliged,  as  a 
matter  of  pure  Christian  charity,  to  "kiss  and 
make  up  "  with  him  at  the  end  of  the  evening. 
Of  course  Hiel  took  away  an  accurate  inven 
tory  of  every  article  in  the  bundle,  for  the  enlight 
enment  of  any  of  his  particular  female  friends 
who  had  a  curiosity  to  know  "  what  Mis'  Cushin's 
folks  sent  her  in  that  air  bundle  from  Boston." 

On  the  whole,  when  Dolly  had  said  her  prayers 
that  night  and  thought  the  matter  over,  she 
concluded  that  her  Christmas  Day  had  been 
quite  a  success. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

VILLAGE    POLITICIANS. 

|E  have  traced  our  little  Dolly's  for 
tunes,  haps  and  havings  through 
Christmas  day,  but  we  should  not  do 
justice  to  the  situation  did  we  not 
throw  some  light  on  the  views  and  opinions  of 
the  Poganuc  people  upon  this  occasion. 

The  Episcopal  church  had  been  newly  finished. 
There  was  held  on  this  day,  for  the  first  time  in 
open  daylight,  the  full  Christmas  Service.  The 
illumination  and  services  of  the  evening  before 
had  been  skillfully  designed  to  make  an  impres 
sion  on  the  popular  mind,  and  to  draw  in  children 
and  young  people  with  all  that  floating  populace 
who  might  be  desirous  of  seeing  or  hearing  some 
new  things. 

It  had  been  a  success.  Such  an  audience  had 
been  drawn  and  such  a  sensation  produced  that 
on  Christmas  day  everybody  in  the  village  was 
talking  of  the  church ;  and  those  who  did  not 
go  ran  to  the  windows  to  see  who  did  go.  A 
week-day  church  service  other  than  a  fast,  and 

Ci 


62  VILLAGE  POLITICIANS. 

thanksgiving,  and  ''preparatory  lecture"  was  a 
striking  novelty ;  and  when  the  little  bell  rang 
out  its  peal  and  the  congregation  began  to 
assemble  it  was  watched  with  curious  eyes  from 
many  a  house. 

The  day  was  a  glorious  one.  The  bright,  cold 
sun  made  the  icicles  that  adorned  the  fronts  of 
all  the  houses  glitter  like  the  gems  of  Aladdin's 
palace,  and  a  well-dressed  company  were  seen 
coming  up  from  various  points  of  the  village  and 
thronging  the  portals  of  the  church. 

The  little  choir  and  their  new  organ  rang  out 
the  Te  Deum  with  hearty  good-will,  and  many 
ears  for  the  first  time  heard  that  glorious  old 
heroic  poem  of  the  early  church.  The  waves  of 
sound  rolled  across  the  green  and  smote  on  the 
unresponsive  double  row  of  windows  of  the  old 
meeting-house,  which  seemed  to  stare  back  with 
a  gaze  of  blank  astonishment.  The  sound  even 
floated  into  the  store  of  Deacon  Dickenson,  and 
caused  some  of  the  hard-handed  old  farmers  who 
were  doing  their  trading  there,  with  their  sleds 
^^  loads  of  wood,  to  stop  their  discourse  on 
dps,  eggs  and  apple-sauce,  and  listen.  To 
incoi  it  bore  the  sound  as  of  a  challenge,  the 
battle-cry  of  an  opposing  host  that  was  rising 
up  to  dispute  the  ground  with  them ;  and  so 
they  listened  with  combative  ears. 

"  Seem   to  be    a  hevin'   it   all  their  own  way 


VILLAGE  POLITICIANS.  63 

over  there,  them  Tiscopals.  Carry  in'  all  before 
'em,"  said  one. 

"  How  they  are  a  gettin'  on  !"  said  another. 

"Yes,"  said  Deacon  Dickenson;  "all  the  Demo 
crats  are  j'inin'  them,  and  goin'  to  make  a  gen'l 
push  next  'lection.  They're  goin'  clean  agin 
everything — Sunday  laws  and  tiding-man  and  all." 

"  Wai,"  said  Deacon  Peasley,  a  meek,  mourn 
ful  little  man,  with  a  bald  top  to  his  head,  "  the 
Democrats  are  goin'  to  carry  the  state.  I  feel 
sure  on  't." 

"Good  reason,"  said  Tim  Hawkins,  a  stout 
two-fisted  farmer  from  one  of  the  outlying  farms. 
"  The  Democrats  beat  'cause  they're  allers  up  and 
dressed,  and  we  Fed'lists  ain't.  Why,  look  at  'em 
to  town  meetin' !  Democrats  allers  on  time, 
every  soul  on  'em — rag,  tag  and  bobtail — rain  or 
shine  don't  make  no  difference  with  them  ;  but 
it  takes  a  yoke  of  oxen  to  get  a  Fed'list  out, 
and  when  you've  got  him  you've  got  to  set  down 
on  him  to  keep  him.  That's  just  the  diff  rence." 

"  Wai,"  said  Deacon  Peasley  in  a  thin,  queru 
lous  voice,  "all  this  'ere  comes  of  extending  the 
suffrage.  Why,  Father  says  that  when  he  was  a 
young  man  there  couldn't  nobody  vote  but  good 
church  members  in  regular  standin',  and  couldn't 
nobody  but  them  be  elected  to  office.  Now  it's 
just  as  you  say,  '  rag,  tag  and  bobtail'  can  vote, 
and  you'll  see  they'll  break  up  all  our  institutions. 


6  4  VILLAGE  POLITICIANS. 

They've  got  it  so  now  that  folks  can  sign  off  and 
go  to  meetin'  anywhere,  and  next  they'll  get  it 
so  they  needn't  go  nowhere — that's  what'll  come 
next.  There's  a  lot  of  our  young  folks  ben  a 
goin'  to  this  'ere  'lumination." 

"  Wai,  I  told  Parson  Gushing  about  that  air 
'lumination  last  night,"  said  Deacon  Dickenson, 
"and  he  didn't  seem  to  mind  it.  But  I  tell 
you  he'll  hev  to  mind.  Both  his  boys  there, 
and  little  Dolly,  too,  runnin'  over  there  after  she 
was  put  to  bed;  he'll  hev  to  do  somethin'  to 
head  this  'ere  off." 

"  He'll  do  it,  too,"  said  Tim  Hawkins.  "  Par 
son  Gushing  knows  what  he's  about,  and  he'll 
come  out  with  a  sarmon  next  Sunday,  you  see 
if  he  don't.  There's  more  in  Parson  Cushing's 
little  finger  than  there  is  >in  that  Sim  Coan's  hull 
body,  if  he  did  come  right  straight  down  from 
the  'Postles. 

"  I've  heard,"  said  Deacon  Peasley,  "  that  Mis' 
Cushing's  folks  in  Boston  was  'Piscopal,  and 
some  thought  mebbe  she  influenced  the  children." 

"Oh,  wal,  Mis'  Gushing,  she  did  come  from 
a  'Piscopal  family,"  said  Deacon  Dickenson.  "  She 
was  a  Kittery,  and  her  gran'ther,  Israel  Kittery, 
was  a  tory  in  the  war.  Her  folks  used  to  go 
to  the  old  North  in  Boston,  and  they  didn't  like 
her  marryin'  Parson  Gushing  a  grain ;  but  when 
she  married  him,  why,  she  did  marry  him.  She 


VILLAGE  POLITICIANS.  65 

married  his  work,  and  married  all  his  pinions. 
And  nobody  can  say  she  hain't  been  a  good  yoke 
fellow;  she's  kept  up  her  end,  Mis'  Gushing  has. 
No,  there's  nobody  ought  to  say  nothin'  agin 
Mis'  Gushing." 

"  Wai,  I  s'pose  we  shall-  hear  from  the  doctor 
next  Sunday,"  said  Hawkins.  "  He'll  speak  out; 
his  trumpet  won't  give  an  unsartin  sound." 

"  I  reely  want  ter  know,"  said  Deacon  Peasley, 
"  ef  Zeph  Higgins  has  reely  come  down  with 
his  folks  to-day,  givin'  up  a  hull  day's  work!  I 
shouldn't  'a'  thought  Zeph'd  'a'  done  that  for 
any  meetinV 

"Oh,  laws,  yis;  Zeph '11  do  anything  he  sets 
his  will  on,  particular  if  it's  suthin'  Mis'  Higgins 
don't  want  to  do — then  Zeph '11  do  it,  sartin.  I 
kind  o'  pity  that  air  woman,"  said  Hawkins. 

"  Oh,  yis,"  said  the  deacon  ;  "  poor  Mis'  Hig 
gins,  she  come  to  my  wife  reely  mournin'  when 
Zeph  cut  up  so  about  them  water-pipes,  and 
says  she,  'Mis'  Dickenson,  I'd  rather  'a' worked 
my  fingers  to  the  bone  than  this  'ere  should  'a' 
happened ;  but  I  can't  do  nothin'/  says  she ; 
'he's  that  sort  that  the  more  you  say  the  more 
sot  he  gets,'  says  she.  Wai,  I  don't  wish  the 
'Piscopals  no  worse  luck  than  to  get  Zeph  Hig 
gins,  that's  all  I've  got  to  say." 

"  Wai,"  said  Tim  Hawkins,  "  let  'em  alone. 
Guess  they'll  find  out  what  he  is  when  they 


66  VILLAGE   POLITICIANS. 

come  to  pass  the  hat  'round.  I  expect  keepin' 
up  that  air  meetin'  '11  be  drefful  hard  sleddin'  yit — 
and  they  won't  get  nothin'  out  o'  Zeph.  Zeph's 
as  tight  as  the  bark  of  a  tree." 

"Wonder  if  that  air  buildin's  paid  fer?  Hiel 
Jones  says  there's  a  consid'able  debt  on't  yit," 
said  Deacon  Peasley,  "and  Hiel  gen'ally  knows." 

"  Don't  doubt  on't,"  said  Deacon  Dickenson. 
"  Squire  Lewis  he's  in  for  the  biggest  part  on't, 
and  he's  got  money  through  his  wife.  She  was 
one  of  them  rich  Winthrops  up  to  Boston.  The 
squire  has  gone  off  now  to  Lucius  Jenks's  store, 
and  so  has  Colonel  Danforth  and  a  lot  more  of 
the  biggest  on  'em.  I  told  Hiel  I  didn't  mind, 
so  long  as  I  kep'  Colonel  Davenport  and  Judge 
Belcher  and  Judge  Peters  and  Sheriff  Dennie. 
1 1  have  a  good  many  mcrre  aristocracy  than  he 
hez." 

"For  my  part  I  don't  care  so  very  much  for 
these  'ere  town-hill  aristocracy,"  said  Tim  Haw 
kins.  "  They  live  here  in  their  gret  houses  and 
are  so  proud  they  think  it's  a  favor  to  speak  to 
a  farmer  in  his  blue  linsey  shirt  a  drivin'  his 
team.  I  don't  want  none  on  'em  lookin'  down 
on  me.  I  am  as  good  as  they  be ;  and  I  guess  you 
make  as  much  in  your  trade  by  the  farmers 
out  on  the  hills  as  you  do  by  the  rich  folks  here 
in  town." 

"  Oh,    yis,    sartin,"     said    Deacon    Dickenson, 


CASTE. 

"  O  yis,  sartin,"  said  Deacon  Dickenson,  making  haste  to  pro 
pitiate  .  .  .  "  Td  rather  see  your  sled  a-standin1  front  o1 
•my  door  than  the  finest  carriage  any  on  'em  drives" — p.  67. 


VILLAGE  POLITICIANS.  67 

making  haste  to  propitiate.  "  I  don't  want  no 
better  trade  than  I  get  out  your  way,  Mr. 
Hawkins.  I  'd  rather  see  your  sled  a  standin' 
front  o'  my  door  than  the  finest  carriage  any  of 
'em  drives.  I  haint  forgot  Parson  Cushing's 
sarmon  to  the  farmers,  '  The  king  himself  is 
sarved  by  the  field.' " 

"  I  tell  you  that  was  a  sarmon!"  said  Hawkins 
"We  folks  in  our  neighborhood  all  subscribed 
to  get  it  printed,  and  I  read  it  over  once  a 
month,  Sundays.  Parson  Gushing  's  a  good 
farmer  himself.  He  can  turn  in  and  plow  or 
hoe  or  mow,  and  do  as  good  a  day's  work  as  I 
can,  if  he  does  know  Latin  and  Greek;  and  he 
and  Mis'  Gushing  they  come  over  and  visit 
'round  'mong  us  quite  as  sociable  as  with  them 
town-hill  folks.  I  'm  jest  a  waitin'  to  hear  him 
give  it  to  them  air  'Piscopals  next  Sunday.  He  '11 
sarve  out  the  Democrats— the  doctor  will." 

"  Wai,"  said  Deacon  Dickenson,  "  I  don't  think 
the  doctor  hed  reely  got  waked  up  when  I  spoke 
to  him  'bout  that  'lumination,  but  I  guess  his 
eyes  are  open  now,  and  the  doctor  's  one  o'  that 
sort  that's  wide  awake  when  he  is  awake.  He  '11 
do  suthin'  o'  Sunday." 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  DOCTOR'S  SERMON. 

JOGANUC  was  a  pretty  mountain  town 
in  Connecticut.  It  was  a  county  seat, 
and  therefore  of  some  considerable  im 
portance  in  the  vicinity.  It  boasted 
its  share  of  public  buildings — the  great  meeting 
house  that  occupied  the  central  position  of  the 
village  green,  the  tavern  where  the  weekly  stage 
put  up,  a  court-house,  a  jail,  and  other  defenses 
of  public  morals,  besides  the  recently  added 
Episcopal  church. 

It  was  also  the  residence  of  some  stately  and 
dignified  families  of  comfortable  means  and  tra 
ditions  of  ancestral  importance.  Of  these,  as 
before  stated,  a  few  had  availed  themselves  of 
the  loosening  of  old  bonds  and  founded  an  Epis 
copal  church ;  but  it  must  not  be  supposed  that 
there  was  any  lack  of  dignified  and  wealthy  old 
families  in  the  primitive  historic  church  of  Poga- 
nuc,  which  had  so  long  borne  undisputed  sway 
in  the  vicinity.  There  were  the  fine  old  resi 
dences  of  Judge  Gridley  and  Judge  Belcher 

adorning    the   principal  streets.     Conspicuous  in 

08 


THE  DOCTOR'S  SERMON.  69 

one  of  the  front  pews  of  the  meeting-house  might 
bo  seen  every  Sunday  the  stately  form  of  Col. 
Davenport,  who  had  been  a  confidential  friend 
of  General  Washington  and  an  active  commander 
during  the  revolutionary  war,  and  who  inspired 
awe  among  the  townspeople  by  his  military  ante 
cedents.  There  might  be  seen,  too,  the  Governor 
of  the  State  and  the  High  Sheriff  of  Poganuc 
County,  with  one  Mr.  Israel  Deyter,  a  retired 
New  York  merchant,  gifted,  in  popular  belief,  with 
great  riches.  In  short,  the  meeting-house,  for  a 
country  town,  had  no  small  amount  of  wealth,  im 
portance  and  gentility.  Besides  these  residents, 
who  encamped  about  the  green  and  on  the  main 
street,  was  an  outlying  farming  population  ex 
tending  for  miles  around,  whose  wagons  con 
veying  their  well-dressed  wives,  stalwart  sons 
and  blooming  daughters  poured  in  from  all 
quarters,  punctual  as  a  clock  to  the  ringing  of 
the  second  bell  every  Sunday  morning. 

Not  the  least  attentive  listeners  or  shrewd 
critics  were  to  be  found  in  these  hardy  yeomanry 
who  scanned  severely  all  that  they  paid  for, 
whether  temporal  or  spiritual.  As  may  have  been 
noticed  from  the  conversation  at  Deacon  Dicken- 
son's  store,  Dr.  Cushing  had  rather  a  delicate  role 
to  maintain  in  holding  in  unity  the  aristocracy  and 
the  democracy  of  his  parish ;  for  in  those  days  peo 
ple  of  well-born,  well-bred  families  had  a  certain 


7o  THE  DOCTOR'S  SERMON. 

i  traditional  stateliness  and  punctiliousness  which 
were  apt  to  be  considered  as  pride  by  the  laboring 
democracy,  and  the  doctor,  as  might  be  expected, 
found  it  often  more  difficult  to  combat  pride  in 
homespun  than  pride  in  velvet — perhaps  having 
no  very  brilliant  success  in  either  case. 

The  next  Sunday  was  one  of  high  expectation. 
Everybody  was  on  tiptoe  to  hear  what  "our 
minister"  would  have  to  say. 

The  meeting-house  of  Poganuc  was  one  of 
those  square,  bald,  unsentimental  structures  of 
which  but  few  specimens  have  come  down  to 
us  from  old  times.  The  pattern  of  those  ancient 
edifices  was  said  to  be  derived  from  Holland, 
where  the  Puritans  were  sheltered  before  they 
came  to  these  shores.  At  all  events,  they  were 
a  marked  departure  in  every  respect  from  all 
particulars  which  might  remind  one  of  the  grace 
ful  ecclesiastical  architecture  and  customs  of  the 
Church  of  England.  They  were  wide,  roomy, 
and  of  a  desolate  plainness ;  hot  and  sunny  in 
summer,  with  their  staring  rows  of  windows,  and 
in  winter  cold  enough  in  some  cases  even  to 
freeze  the  e^charistic  wine  at  the  communion. 

It  was  with  great  conflict  of  opinion  and  much 
difficulty  that  the  people  of  Poganuc  had  advanced 
so  far  in  the  ways  of  modern  improvement  as  to 
be  willing  to  have  a  large  box  stove  set  up  in 
the  middle  of  the  broad  aisle,  with  a  length  of 


THE  DOCTOR'S  SERMON.  7I 

black  pipe  extending  through  the  house,  whereby 
the  severity  of  winter  sanctuary  performances 
should  be  somewhat  abated.  It  is  on  record 
that,  when  the  proposal  was  made  in  town  meet 
ing  to  introduce  this  luxurious  indulgence,  the 
zeal  of  old  Zeph  Higgins  was  aroused,  and  he 
rose  and  gave  vent  to  his  feelings  in  a  protest : 

"  Fire  ?  Fire  ?  A  fire  in  the  house  o'  God  ? 
I  never  heard  on't.  I  never  heard  o'  hevin'  fire 
in  a  meetin'-house." 

Sheriff  Dennie  here  rose,  and  inquired  whether 
Mrs.  Higgins  did  not  bring  a  foot-stove  with  fire 
in  it  into  the  house  of  God  every  Sunday. 

It  was  an  undeniable  fact  not  only  that  Mrs. 
Higgins  but  every  respectable  matron  and  mother 
of  a  family  brought  her  foot-stove  to  church  well 
filled  with  good,  solid,  hickory  coals,  and  that 
the  passing  of  this  little  ark  of  mercy  from  one 
frozen  pair  of  feet  to  another  was  among  the 
silent  motherly  ministries  which  varied  the  hours 
of  service. 

So  the  precedent  of  the  foot-stove  carried  the 
box-stove  into  the  broad  aisle  of  the  meeting 
house,  whereby  the  air  was  so  moderated  that 
the  minister's  breath  did  not  freeze  into  visible 
clouds  of  vapor  while  speaking,  and  the  beards 
and  whiskers  of  the  brethren  were  no  longer 
coated  with  frost  during  service  time. 

Yet  Poganuc  was  a  place  where  winter  stood 


7 2  •  THE  DOCTOR'S  SERMON. 

for  something.  The  hill,  like  all  hills  in  our  dear 
New  England,  though  beautiful  for  situation  in 
summer  was  a  howling  desolation  for  about  six 
months  of  the  year,  sealed  down  under  snow  and 
drifted  over  by  winds  that  pierced  like  knives 
and  seemed  to  search  every  fiber  of  one's  gar 
ments,  so  that  the  thickest  clothing  was  no  pro 
tection. 

The  Sunday  in  question  was  one  of  those  many 
when  the  thermometer  stood  any  number  of  de- 
degrees  below  zero  ;  the  air  clear,  keen  and  cut 
ting  ;  and  the  bright,  blooming  faces  of  the  girls 
in  the  singers'  seat  bore  token  of  the  frosty  wind 
they  had  encountered.  All  was  animation  through 
the  church,  and  Mr.  Benjamin  Davis,  the  leader 
of  the  singing,  had  selected  old  "  Denmark  "  as  a 
proper  tune  for  opening  the  parallels  between 
them  and  the  opposing  forces  of  ritualism.  Ben 
had  a  high  conceit  of  his  own  vocal  powers,  and 
had  been  heard  to  express  himself  contemptu 
ously  of  the  new  Episcopal  organ.  He  had  been 
to  Doctor  Gushing  with  suggestions  as  to  the 
tunes  that  the  singers  wanted,  to  keep  up  the 
reputation  of  their  "  meetin'-house."  So  after 
"  Denmark "  came  old  "  Majesty,"  and  Ben  so 
bestirred  himself  beating  time  and  roaring,  first 
to  treble  and  then  to  counter  and  then  to  bass, 
and  all  the  singers  poured  forth  their  voices  with 
such  ringing  good-will,  that  everybody  felt  sure 


THE  DOCTOR'S  SERMON. 


73 


they  were  better  than  any  Episcopal  organ  in  the 
world. 

And  as  there  is  a  place  for  all  things  in  this 
great  world  of  ours,  so  there  was  in  its  time 
and  day  a  place  and  a  style  for  Puritan  music. 
If  there  were  pathos  and  power  and  solemn 
splendor  in  the  rhythmic  movement  of  the  church- 
ly  chants,  there  was  a  grand  wild  freedom,  an 
energy  of  motion,  in  the  old  "fuguing"  tunes 
of  that  day  that  well  expressed  the  heart  of  a 
people  courageous  in  combat  and  unshaken  in 
endurance.  The  church  chant  is  like  the  meas 
ured  motion  of  the  mighty  sea  in  calm  weather, 
but  those  old  fuguing  tunes  were  like  that  same 
ocean  aroused  by  stormy  winds,  when  deep 
calleth  unto  deep  in  tempestuous  confusion,  out 
of  which  at  last  is  evolved  union  and  harmony. 
It  was  a  music  suggestive  of  the  strife,  the  com 
motion,  the  battle  cries  of  a  transition  period  of 
society,  struggling  onward  toward  dimly-seen 
ideals  of  peace  and  order.  Whatever  the  trained 
musician  might  say  of  such  a  tune  as  old 
"  Majesty,"  no  person  of  imagination  and  sensi 
bility  could  ever  hear  it  well  rendered  by  a 
large  choir  without  deep  emotion.  And  when 
back  and  forth  from  every  side  of  the  church 
came  the  different  parts  shouting, 

"  On  cherubim  and  seraphim 
Full  royally  he  rode, 


THE  DOCTOR'S  SERMON. 

And  on  the  wings  of  mighty  winds 
Came  flying  all  abroad" — 

there  went  a  stir  and  a  thrill  through  many  a 
stern  and  hard  nature,  until  the  tempest  cleared 
off  in  the  words, 

"  He  sat  serene  upon  the  floods, 

Their  fury  to  restrain, 
And  he,  as  sovereign  Lord  and  King, 
Forever  more  shall  reign.'' 

And  when  the  doctor  rose  to  his  sermon  the 
music  had  done  its  work  on  his  audience,  in 
exalting  their  mood  to  listen  with  sympathetic 
ears  to  whatever  he  might  have  to  say. 

When  he  spread  out  his  sermon  before  him 
there  was  a  rustle  all  over  the  house,  as  of 
people  composing  themselves  to  give  the  strictest 
attention. 

He  announced  his  text  from  Galatians  iv., 
9,  10,  ii. 

"  But  now,  after  that  ye  have  known  God,  or  rather  are  known 
of  God,  how  turn  ye  again  to  the  weak  and  beggarly  elements, 
whereunto  ye  desire  again  to  be  in  bondage?  Ye  observe  days, 
and  months,  and  times,  and  years.  I  am  afraid  of  you,  lest  I 
have  bestowed  on  you  labor  in  vain." 

The  very  announcement  of  the  text  seemed 
to  bring  out  upon  the  listening  faces  of  the 
audience  a  sympathetic  gleam.  Hard,  weather- 
beaten  countenances  showed  it,  as  when  a  sun 
beam  passes  over  points  of  rocks. 

What  was  to  come  of  such  a  text  was  plain 
to  be  seen.  The  yoke  of  bondage  from  which 


THE  DOCTOR'S  SERMON.  75 

Puritan  New  England  had  escaped  across  the 
waters  of  a  stormy  sea,  the  liberty  in  Christ 
which  they  had  won  in  this  new  untrodden  land, 
made  theirs  by  prayers  and  toils  and  tears  and 
sacrifice,  for  which  they  had  just  fought  through 
a  tedious  and  bloody  war — there  was  enough  in 
all  these  remembrances  to  evoke  a  strain  of 
heartfelt  eloquence  which  would  awaken  a  re 
sponse  in  every  heart. 

Then  the  doctor  began  his  investigations  of 
Christmas;  and  here  his  sermon  bristled  with 
quotations  in  good  Greek  and  Latin,  which  he 
could  not  deny  himself  the  pleasure  of  quoting 
in  the  original  as  well  as  in  the  translation.  But 
the  triumphant  point  in  his  argument  was  founded 
on  a  passage  in  Clemens  Alexandrinus,  who, 
writing  at  the  close  of  the  second  century,  speaks 
of  the  date  of  Christ's  birth  as  an  unimportant 
and  unsettled  point.  "  There  are  some,"  says  the 
Father,  "  who  over-curiously  assign  not  only  the 
year  but  the  day  of  our  Saviour's  birth,  which 
they  say  was  the  2  5th  of  Pachon,  or  the  2oth  of 
May."  * 

The  doctor  had  exulted  in  the  finding  of  this 
passage  as  one  that  findeth  much  spoil,  and  he 
proceeded  to  make  the  most  of  it  in  showing 
;  that  the  modern  keeping  of  Christmas  was  so 
far  unknown  in  the  earliest  ages  of  the  church 
that  even  the  day  was  a  matter  of  uncertainty. 


76  THE  DOCTOR'S  SERMON. 

Now  it  is  true  that  his  audience,  more  than 
half  of  them,  did  not  know  who  Clement  was. 
Even  the  judges,  men  of  culture  and  learning, 
and  the  teacher  at  the  Academy,  professionally 
familiar  with  Greek,  had  only  the  vaguest  re 
collection  of  a  Christian  Father  who  had  lived 
some  time  in  the  primitive  ages ;  the  rest  of  the 
congregation,  men  and  women,  only  knew  that 
their  minister  was  a  learned  man  and  were 
triumphant  at  this  new  proof  of  it. 

The  doctor  used  his  point  so  as  to  make  it 
skillfully  exciting  to  the  strong,  practical,  matter- 
of-fact  element  which  underlies  New  England 
life.  "  If  it  had  been  important  for  us  to  keep 
Christmas,"  he  said,  "  certainly  the  date  would 
not  have  been  left  in  uncertainty.  We  find  no 
traces  in  the  New  Testament  of  any  such  ob 
servance  ;  we  never  read  of  Christmas  as  kept 
by  the  apostles  and  their  followers ;  and  it  ap 
pears  that  it  was  some  centuries  after  Christ 
before  such  an  observance  was  heard  of  at  all.'' 
In  fact  the  doctor  said  that  the  keeping  of  the 
25th  of  December  as  Christmas  did  not  obtain 
till  after  the  fourth  century,  and  then  it  was 
appointed  to  take  the  place  of  an  old  heathen 
festival,  the  "  natalis  solis  invicti"  and  here 
the  doctor  rained  down  names  and  authori 
ties  and  quotations  establishing  conflicting  sup 
positions  till  the  wilderness  of  learning  grew  so 


THE  DOCTOR'S  SERMOX. 


77 


wild  that  only  the  Academy  teacher  seemed  able 
to  follow  it  through.  He  indeed  sat  up  and 
nodded  intelligently  from  pomt  to  point,  feeling 
that  the  eyes  of  scholars  might  be  upon  him, 
and  that  it  was  well  never  to  be  caught  napping 
in  matters  like  these. 

The  last  point  of  the  Doctor's  sermon  consisted 
in  historical  statements  and  quotations  concern 
ing  the  various  abuses  to  which  the  celebration 
of  the  Christmas  festival  had  given  rise,  from  the 
days  of  Augustine  and  Chrysostom  down  to 
those  of  the  Charleses  and  Jameses  of  England, 
in  all  of  which  he  had  free  course  and  was  glori 
fied  ;  since  under  that  head  there  are  many  things 
more  true  than  edifying  that  might  be  recounted. 

He  alluded  to  the  persecutions  which  had 
forced  upon  our  fathers  the  alternative  of  con 
forming  to  burdensome  and  unspiritual  rites  and 
ceremonies  or  of  flying  from  their  native  land 
and  all  they  held  dear ;  he  quoted  from  St.  Paul 
the  passage  about  false  brethren  who  came  in 
privily  to  spy  out  our  liberty  that  we  have  in 
Christ  Jesus,  that  they  might  bring  us  again  into 
bondage — "to  whom  "  (and  here  the  doctor  grew 
emphatic  and  thumped  the  pulpit  cushion)  "  we 
gave  place  by  subjection  not  for  an  hour." 

The  sermon  ended  with  a  stirring  appeal  to 
walk  in  the  good  old  ways,  to  resist  all  those, 
however  fair  their  pretenses,  who  sought  to  re- 


78  THE  DOCTOR'S  SERMON. 

move  the  old  landmarks  and  repeal  the  just  laws 
and  rules  that  had  come  down  from  the  fathers. 
It  was  evident  from  the  enkindled  faces  in  every 
pew  that  the  doctor  carried  his  audience  fully 
with  him,  and  when  in  the  closing  petition  he 
prayed  to  the  Lord  that  "our  judges  might  be 
as  at  the  first,  and  our  counsellors  as  at  the  be 
ginning,"  everybody  felt  sure  that  he  was  think 
ing  of  the  next  election,  and  Tim  Hawkins  with 
difficulty  restrained  himself  from  giving  a  poke 
of  the  elbow  to  a  neighbor  in  the  next  pew  sus 
pected  of  Democratic  proclivities. 

As  to  Dolly,  who  as  a  babe  of  grace  was  duly 
brought  to  church  every  Sunday,  her  meditations 
were  of  a  very  confused  order.  Since  the  gift 
of  her  red  dress  and  red  shoes,  and  the  well  re 
membered  delightful  scene  at  the  church  on 
Christmas  Eve,  Christmas  had  been  an  interesting 
and  beautiful  mystery  to  her  mind  ;  a  sort  of 
illuminated  mist,  now  appearing  and  now  dis 
appearing. 

Sometimes  when  her  father  in  his  sermon  pro 
nounced  the  word  "Christmas"  in  emphatic 
tones,  she  fixed  her  great  blue  eyes  seriously 
upon  him  and  wondered  what  he  could  be  say 
ing  ;  but  when  Greek  and  Latin  quotations  began 
to  rain  thick  and  fast  she  turned  to  Spring,  who 
as  a  good,  well-trained  minister's  dog  was  allowed 
to  go  to  meeting  with  his  betters,  and  whose 


THE  DOCTORS  SERMON.  ^ 

serious  and  edified  air  was  a  pattern  to  Dolly 
and  the  boys. 

When  she  was  cold — a  very  common  experi 
ence  in  those  windy  pews — she  nestled  close  to 
Spring  and  put  her  arms  around  his  neck,  and 
sometimes  dropped  asleep  on  his  back.  Those 
sanctuary  naps  were  a  generally  accorded  privi 
lege  to  the  babes  of  the  church,  who  could  not 
be  expected  to  digest  the  strong  meat  of  the 
elders. 

Dolly  had  one  comfort  of  which  nothing  could 
deprive  her:  she  had  been  allowed  to  wear 
her  new  red  dress  and  red  shoes.  It  is  true 
the  dress  was  covered  up  under  a  dark,  stout 
little  woolen  coat,  and  the  red  shoes  quenched 
in  the  shade  of  a  pair  of  socks  designed  to  protect 
her  feet  from  freezing;  but  at  intervals  Dolly 
pulled  open  her  little  coat  and  looked  at  the 
red  dress,  and  felt  warmer  for  it,  and  thought 
whether  there  was  any  such  day  as  Christmas 
or  not  it  was  a  nice  thing  for  little  girls  to  have 
aunties  and  grandmas  who  believed  in  it,  and 
sent  them  pretty  things  in  consequence. 

When  the  audience  broke  up  and  the  doctor 
came  down  from  the  pulpit  he  was  congratulated 
on  his  sermon  as  a  master-piece.  Indeed,  he  had 
the  success  that  a  man  has  always  when  he 
proves  to  an  audience  that  they  are  in  the  right 
in  their  previous  opinions. 


8o  THE  DOCTOR'S  SERMON. 

The  general  opinion,  from  Colonel  Davenport 
and  Sheriff  Dennie  down  to  Tim  Hawkins  and 
the  farmers  of  the  vicinity,  was  that  the  doctor's 
sermon  ought  to  be  printed  by  subscription,  and 
the  suggestion  was  left  to  be  talked  over  in 
various  circles  for  the  ensuing  week. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

MR.   COAN  ANSWERS   THE   DOCTOR. 

)HE  doctor's  sermon  had  the  usual  effect 
of  controversial  sermons — it  convinced 
everybody  that  was  convinced  before 
and  strengthened  those  who  before 
were  strong.  Everybody  was  talking  of  it.  The 
farmers  as  they  drove  their  oxen  stepped  with  a 
vigorous  air,  like  men  that  were  not  going  to  be 
brought  under  any  yoke  of  bondage.  Old  ladies 
in  their  tea-drinkings  talked  about  the  danger  of 
making  a  righteousness  of  forms  and  rites  and 
ceremonies,  and  seemed  of  opinion  that  the  pro 
ceedings  at  the  Episcopal  church,  however  attrac 
tive,  were  only  an  insidious  putting  forth  of  one 
paw  of  the  Scarlet  Beast  of  Rome,  and  that  if 
not  vigorously  opposed  the  whole  quadruped, 
tooth  and  claw,  would  yet  be  upon  their  backs. 
But  it  must  not  be  supposed  that  this  side  of 
the  question  had  all  the  talk  to  itself.  The  Rev. 
Simeon  Coan  was  a  youth  of  bright  parts,  vigor 
ous  combativeness  and  considerable  fluency  of 
speech,  and  he  immediately  prepared  a  sermon 
on  his  side  of  the  question,  by  which,  in  the 

81 


82  MR.  CO  AN  ANSWERS   THE  DOCTOR. 

opinion  of  the  Lewises,  the  Danforths,  the  Cop 
leys  and  all  the  rest  of  his  audience,  he  proved 
beyond  a  doubt  that  Christmas  ought  to  be  kept, 
and  that  the  25th  of  December  was  the  proper 
time  for  keeping1  it.  He  brought  also  quotations 
from  Greek  and  Latin  thick  as  stars  in  the  skies ; 
and  as  to  the  quotations  of  the  doctor  he  ignored 
them  altogether,  and  talked  about  something  else. 

The  doctor  had  been  heard  to  observe  with  a 
subdued  triumph  that  he  really  would  like  to  see 
how  "  Coan"  would  "  get  round"  that  passage  in 
Clement,  but  he  could  not  have  that  pleasure, 
because  "  Coan"  did  not  get  anywhere  near  it, 
but  struck  off  as  far  as  possible  from  it  into  a 
region  of  quotations  on  his  own  side ;  and  as  his 
audience  were  not  particularly  fitted  to  adjudi 
cate  nice  points  in  chronology,  and  as  quotations 
from  the  Church  Fathers  on  all  sides  of  almost 
any  subject  under  the  sun  are  plentiful  as  black 
berries  in  August,  Mr.  Coan  succeeded  in  making 
his  side  to  the  full  as  irrefragable  in  the  eyes  of 
his  hearers  as  the  doctor's  in  those  of  his. 

But  besides  this  he  reinforced  himself  by  pro 
claiming  with  vigor  the  authority  of  the  Church. 
"  The  Church  has  ordained,"  "  The  Church  in  her 
wisdom  has  directed,"  "  The  Church  commands," 
and  "  The  Church  hath  appointed,"  were  phrases 
often  on  his  tongue,  and  the  sound  rolled 
smoothly  above  the  heads  of  good  old  families 


.  CO  AN  ANSWERS   THE  DOCTOR.  83 

who  had  long  felt  the  want  of  some  definite  form 
of  authority  to  support  their  religious  preferences 
in  face  of  the  general  Congregationalism  of  the 
land. 

The  Church,  that  mysterious  and  awful  power 
that  had  come  down  from  distant  ages,  had  sur 
vived  the  dissolution  of  monarchies  and  was 
to-day  the  same  as  of  old !  The  thought  was 
poetical  and  exciting,  and  gave  impulse  to  the 
fervor  inspired  by  a  liturgy  and  forms  of  worship 
allowed  even  by  adversaries  to  be  noble  and 
beautiful ;  and  their  minister's  confident  assertion 
that  the  Church  commanded,  approved  and 
backed  up  all  that  they  were  doing  was  im 
mensely  supporting  to  the  little  band.  The 
newly-acquired  members,  born  and  brought  up 
in  Congregational  discipline,  felt  all  the  delight 
of  a  new  sense  of  liberty.  It  had  not  always  been 
possible  to  go  to  any  other  than  the  dominant 
church,  and  there  was  a  fresh  emotion  of  pleasure 
in  being  able  to  do  as  they  pleased  in  the  mat 
ter  ;  so  they  readily  accepted  Mr.  Coan's  High 
Church  claims  and  doctrines.  Instead  of  standing 
on  the  defensive  and  apologizing  for  their  exist 
ence  he  boldly  struck  out  for  the  rock  of  apos 
tolic  succession,  declared  their  church  the  true 
Apostolic  Church,  the  only  real  church  in  the 
place,  although  he  admitted  with  an  affable 
charity  that  doubtless  good  Christian  people 


•i 
84  MR.  CO  AN  ANSWERS   THE  DOCTOR. 

among  the  various  sects  who  departed  from  this 
true  foundation  might  at  last  be  saved  through 
the  uncovenanted  mercies  of  God. 

Imagine  the  scorn  which  this  doctrine  in 
spired  in  Puritan  people,  who  had  been  born 
in  the  faith  that  New  England  was  the  vine 
which  God's  right  hand  had  planted — who  had 
looked  on  her  church  as  the  Church  of  God,  cast 
out  indeed  into  the  wilderness,  but  bearing  with 
her  "the  adoption,  and  the  glory,  and  the  cove 
nants,  the  giving  of  the  law,  and  the  service  of 
God,  and  the  promises."  That  faith  was  woven  into 
the  very  existence  of  the  New  England  race. 
They  cast  great  roots  about  it  as  the  oaks  of  the 
forest  grasped  and  grew  out  of  the  eternal 
rocks  of  their  hard  and  barren  shores.  So,  when 
Mr.  Simeon  Coan,  in  a  white  surplice,  amid  sus 
picious  chantings  and  bowings  and  genuflections, 
announced  a  doctrine  which  disfranchised  them 
of  the  heavenly  Jerusalem,  and  made  them  aliens 
from  the  commonwealth  of  Israel  and  strangers 
to  the  covenant  of  promise,  there  was  a  grim 
sense  of  humor  mingled  with  the  indignation 
which  swelled  their  bosoms. 

"Uncovenanted  marcies!"  said  stout  Tim  Haw 
kins.  "Thet's  what  they  call  'em,  do  they?  Wai, 
ef  thet's  what  Parson  Gushing  and  all  the  min 
isters  of  our  association  has  got  to  live  and  die 
by — why,  it's  good  enough  for  me.  I  don't  want 


MA\  COAN  ANSWERS    THE  DOCTOK.  ^ 

no  better;  I  don't  care  which  kind  they  be.  I 
scorn  to  argue  with  such  folks." 

In  fact  they  felt  as  if  they  had  seen  a  chip 
sparrow  flying  in  the  face  of  an  eagle  in  his 
rock-bound  eyrie. 

But  the  doctor's  sermon  had  the  effect  to  draw 
the  lines  as  to  keeping  Christmas  up  to  the  tight 
est  brace.  The  academy  teacher  took  occasion 
on  Monday  to  remark  to  his  scholars  how  he 
had  never  thought  of  such  a  thing  as  suspend 
ing  school  for  Christmas  holidays,  and  those  of 
the  pupils  who,  belonging  to  Episcopal  families, 
had  gone  on  Christmas  Day  to  church  were 
informed  that  marks  for  absence  and  non- 
performance  of  lessons  would  stand  against  them, 
no  matter  what  excuses  they  might  bring  from 
parents.  As  to  Christmas  holidays — the  giving 
up  to  amusement  a  week,  from  Christmas  to  New 
Year's — he  spoke  of  it  as  a  popish  enormity 
not  to  be  mentioned  or  even  thought  of  in  God 
fearing  New  England,  which  abhorred  a  holiday 
as  much  as  nature  abhors  a  vacuum.  Those 
parents  whose  children  had  been  drawn  in  to 
attend  these  seductive  festivities  were  anxiously 
admonished  by  their  elders  in  homilies  from  the 
text,  "  Surely,  in  vain  the  net  is  spread  in  the 
sight  of  any  bird." 

For  example,  witness  one  scene.  It  is  Sun 
day  evening,  and  the  bright  snapping  fire  lights 


86  MR.  CO  AN  ANSWERS   THE  DOCTOR.  * 

up  the  great  kitchen  chimney  where  the  widow 
Jones  is  sitting  by  the  stand  with  her  great  Bible 
before  her.  A  thin,  weary,  kindly  old  face  is 
hers,  with  as  many  lines  in  it  as  Denner's  cele 
brated  picture  of '  the  old  woman.  Everything 
about  her,  to  her  angular  figure  and  her  thin 
bony  hands,  bore  witness  to  the  unsparing  work 
that  had  been  laid  upon  every  hour  and  moment 
of  her  life.  Even  now  the  thin  hands  that  rested 
on  the  Bible  twitched  at  times  mechanically  as 
if  even  in  the  blessed  rest  of  Sunday  evening 
she  felt  the  touch  of  the  omnipresent  knitting 
needles. 

On  the  settle  beside  the  fire,  half  stretched  out, 
lounges  Hiel,  her  youngest  born  son  and  the 
prop  of  her  old  age ;  for  all  others  have  gone 
hither  and  thither  seeking  their  future  in  the 
world..  Hiel  has  been  comforting  her  heart  by 
the  heartiest  praises  of  the  minister's  sermon  that 
day. 

"  I  tell  you  what,  Mother,  them  Tiscopals  got 
pitched  into  lively,  now ;  the  Doctor  pursued  'em 
1  even  unto  Shur,'  as  the  Scriptur'  says." 

"Yis;  and,  Hiel,  I  hope  you  won't  be  seen 
goin'  to  the  Tiscopal  meetings  no  more.  I  felt 
reely  consarned,  after  I  heard  the  sarmon,  to 
think  of  your  bein'  in  to  that  air  'lumination." 

"Oh  laws,  Mother,  I  jest  hed  to  go  to  see  to 
things.  Things  hez  to  be  seen  to;  there  was 


MR.  COAN  ANSWERS    THE  DOCTOR.  87 

the  Doctor's  boys  right  up  in  the  front  slips, 
and  little  Dolly  there  rolled  up  like  a  rabbit 
down  there  under  them  spruces.  I  had  to  take 
her  home.  I  expect  it's  what  waked  up  the 
Doctor  so,  what  I  said  to  him." 

"Wai,  Hiel,  mebbe  it  was  all  fer  the  best; 
but  I  hope  you'll  let  it  alone  now.  And  I  heard 
you  was  a  settin'  up  with  Nabby  Higgins  the 
other  evening;  was  you?" 

A  curious  expression  passed  over  Hiel's  droll 
handsome  face,  and  he  drew  his  knife  from  his 
pocket  and  began  reflectively  to  shave  a  bit  of 
shingle. 

"  Wai,  yis,  Mother;  the  fact  is,  I  did  stay  with 
Nabby  Christmas  evening,  as  they  call  it.  Nabby 
and  me's  allers  ben  good  friends,  you  know. 
You  know,  Mother,  you  think  lots  of  Nabby 's 
mother,  Mis'  Higgins,  and  it  ain't  her  .fault  nor 
Nabby 's  ef  she  hez  to  leave  our  meetin'.  It's 
old  Zeph  that  makes  'em." 

"  O  yis.  I  ha'n't  nothin'  agin  Mis'  Higgins. 
Polly  Higgins  is  a  good  woman  as  is  goin'.  I 
don't  want  no  better;  but  as  to  Nabby,  why, 
she's  light  and  triflin',  and  she's  goin'  right  into 
all  these  'ere  vanities;  and  I  don't  want  no  son 
of  mine  to  get  drawn  away  arter  her.  You 
know  how  'twas  in  old  times,  it  was  the  Moab- 
itish  women  that  allers  made  mischief." 

"  Oh  land  o'  Goshen,  Mother,  jes  as  ef  it  would 


88  MR.  CO  AN  ANSWERS    THE  DOCTOR. 

do  any  harm  for  me  to  set  up  with  Nabby  in 
the  minister's  own  kitchen.  Ef  she  don't  pisen 
the  minister's  boys  and  Dolly  she  won't,  pisen  me; 
besides,  I  wanted  to  see  what  was  in  that  air  bun 
dle  Mis'  Cushing's  folks  sent  to  her  from  Boston. 
Of  course  I  knew  you'd  be  a  wantin'  to  know." 

"Wai,  did  you  see?"  said  the  widow,  snapping 
at  once  at  the  bait  so  artfully  thrown. 

"  I  rather  reckon  I  did.  Dolly  she  got  a  red 
frock  and  red  shoes,  and  she  was  so  tickled 
nothing  would  do  but  she  must  bring  her  red 
frock  and  red  shoes  right  out  to  show  to  Nabby. 
They  think  all  the  world  of  each  other,  Nabby 
and  Dolly  do." 

"Was  the  dress  made  up?"  said  the  widow. 

"Oh,  yis ;  all  made  up,  ready  to  put  right  on." 

"Red,  did  you  say?" 

"  Yes,  red  as  a  robin,  with  little  black  sprigs 
in't,  and  her  shoes  red  morocco.  I  tell  you  she 
put  'em  on  and  squeaked  round  in  'em  lively ! 
Then  there  was  six  silk  pocket-handkerchers  for 
the  Doctor,  all  hemmed,  and  his  name  marked 
in  the  corner ;  and  there  was  a  nice  book  for 
each  o'  them  boys,  and  a  bonnet-ribbin  for  Miss 
Gushing." 

"  What  color  was  it  ?"  said  the  widow. 

"  Wai,  I  don't  know— sort  o'  sky-blue  scarlet," 
said  Hiel,  tired  of  particulars.  "  I  never  know 
what  women  call  their  ribbins." 


MR.  CO  AN  ANSWERS    THE   DOCTOR.  89 

"  Wai,  reely  now,  it's  a  good  thing  for  folks  to 
have  rich  relations,"  soliloquized  the  widow.  "  I 
don't  grudge  Mis'  Gushing  her  prosperity — not  a 
grain." 

"  Yis,  and  the  doctor's  folks  was  glad  enough 
to  get  them  things,  if  they  was  Christmas  pres 
ents.  The  Christmas  didn't  pisen  'em,  any  way; 
Mis'  Cushing's  folks  up  to  Boston  's  Tiscopals, 
but  she  thinks  they're  pretty  nice  folks,  if  they  be 
Tiscopals. 

"  Now,  Hiel,"  said  the  widow,  "  Nabby  Hig- 
gins  is  a  nice  girl— a  girl  that's  got  faculty, 
and  got  ambition,  and  she's  handsome.  I  expect 
she's  prudent  and  laid  by  something  out  of  her 
wages  " — and  here  the  widow  paused  and  gazed 
reflectively  at  the  sparks  on  the  chimney-back. 

"  Wai,  Mother,  the  upshot  on't  is  that  if  I  and 
Nabby  should  want  to  make  a  team  together  there 
wouldn't  be  no  call  for  wailin'  and  gnashin'  of 
teeth.  There  might  wuss  things  happen ;  but 
jes  now  Nabby  and  I's  good  friends — that's  all." 

And  with  this  settlement  the  widow  Jones,  like 
many  another  mother,  was  forced  to  rest  con 
tented,  sure  that  her  son,  in  his  own  good  time, 
would — do  just  as  he  pleased. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

ELECTION  DAY  IN  POGANUC. 


month  of  March  had  dawned  over 
the  slippery,  snow-clad  hills  of  Poga- 
nuc.  The  custom  that  enumerates  this 
as  among  the  spring  months  was  in 
that  region  the  most  bitter  irony.  Other  winter 
months  were  simple  winter  —  cold,  sharp  and  hard 
enough  —  but  March  was  winter  with  a  practical 
application,  driven  in  by  winds  that  pierced 
through  joints  and  marrow.  Not  an  icicle  of 
all  the  stalactites  which  adorned  the  fronts  of 
houses  had  so  much  as  thought  of  thawing  ;  the 
snow  banks  still  lay  in  white  billows  above  the 
tops  of  the  fences  ;  the  roads,  through  which  the 
ox-sleds  of  the  farmers  crunched  and  squeaked 
their  way,  were  cut  deep  down  through  heavy 
drifts,  and  there  was  still  the  best  prospect  in  the 
world  for  future  snow-storms  ;  but  yet  it  was 
called  "  spring."  And  the  voting  day  had  come  ; 
and  Zeph  Higgins,  full  of  the  energy  of  a  sover 
eign  and  voter,  was  up  at  four  o'clock  in  the 

morning,   bestirring   himself  with  a  tempestuous 
90 


ELECTION  DAY  IN  POGANUC.  QT 

clatter  to  rouse  his  household  and  be  by  daylight 
on  the  way  to  town  to  exercise  his  rights. 

The  feeble  light  of  a  tallow  dip  seemed  to  cut 
but  a  small  circle  into  the  darkness  of  the  great 
kitchen.  The  frost  sparkled  white  on  the  back  of 
the  big  fire-place,  where  the  last  night's  coals  lay 
raked  up  under  banks  of  ashes.  An  earthquake 
of  tramping  cowhide  boots  shook  the  rafters  and 
stairs,  and  the  four  boys  appeared  on  the  scene  ot 
action.  Backlog  and  forestick  were  soon  piled 
and  kindlings  laid,  and  the  fire  roared  and 
snapped  and  crackled  up  the  ample  chimney. 
Meek,  shadowy  Mrs.  Higgins,  with  a  step  like  a 
snow-flake,  and  resignation  and  submission  in 
every  line  of  her  face,  was  proceeding  to  cut  off 
frozen  sausages  from  the  strings  of  the  same  that 
garnished  the  kitchen  walls.  The  tea  kettle  was 
hung  over  the  blaze,  and  Zeph  and  the  boys,  with 
hats  crowded  down  to  their  eyes,  and  tippets  tied 
over  their  ears,  plowed  their  way  to  the  barn  to 
milk  and  feed  the  stock. 

When  they  returned,  while  the  tea-kettle  was 
puffing  and  the  sausages  frying  and  sizzling,  there 
was  an  interval  in  which  Zeph  called  to  family 
prayers,  and  began  reading  the  Bible  with  a  voice 
as  loud  and  harsh  as  the  winds  that  were  blowing 
out  of  doors. 

Zeph  always  read  the  Bible  straight  along  in 
course,  without  a  moment's  thought  or  inquiry  as 


92  ELECTION  DA  Y  IN  POGANUC. 

to  the  sense  of  what  he  was  reading,  which  this 
morning  was  from  Zechariah  xi.,  as  follows  : 
"  Open  thy  doors,  O  Lebanon,  that  the  fire 
may  devour  thy  cedars.  Howl,  fir  tree ;  for 
the  cedar  is  fallen  ;  because  the  mighty  are 
spoiled.  Howl,  O  ye  oaks  of  Bashan,  for 
the  forest  of  the  vintage  is  come  down.  There 
is  a  voice  of  the  howling  of  the  shepherds,  for 
their  glory  is  spoiled  :  a  voice  of  the  roaring  of 
young  lions,  for  the  pride  of  Jordan  is  spoiled." 
Zeph  rendered  the  whole  chapter  with  his  harshest 
tones,  and  then,  all  standing,  he  enunciated  in 
stentorian  voice  the  morning  prayer,  whose 
phrases  were  an  heir-loom  that  had  descended 
from  father  to  son  for  generations. 

The  custom  of  family  worship  was  one  of  the 
most  rigid  inculcations  of  the  Puritan  order  of 
society,  and  came  down  from  parent  to  child  with 
the  big  family  Bible,  where  the  births,  deaths  and 
marriages  of  the  household  stood  recorded. 

In  Zeph's  case  the  custom  seemed  to  be  merely 
an  inherited  tradition,  which  had  dwindled  into  a 
habit  purely  mechanical.  Yet,  who  shall  say  ? 

Of  a  rugged  race,  educated  in  hardness,  wring 
ing  his  substance  out  of  the  very  teeth  and  claws 
of  reluctant  nature,  on  a  rocky  and  barren  soil, 
and  under  a  harsh,  forbidding  sky,  who  but  the 
All-Seeing  could  judge  him?  In  that  hard  soul 
there  may  have  been  thus  uncouthly  expressed  a 


ELECTION  DA  Y  IN  POGANUG.  93 

loyalty  for  Something  Higher,  however  dimly 
perceived.  It  was  acknowledging  that  even  he 
had  his  master.  One  thing  is  certain,  the  custom 
of  family  prayers,  such  as  it  was,  was  a  great 
comfort  to  the  meek  saint  by  his  side,  to  whom 
any  form  of  prayer,  any  pause  from  earthly  care 
and  looking  up  to  a  Heavenly  Power,  was  a 
blessed  rest.  In  that  daily  toil,  often  beyond  her 
strength,  when  she  never  received  a  word  of 
sympathy  or  praise,  it  was  a  comfort  all  day  to 
her  to  have  had  a  chapter  in  the  Bible  and  a 
prayer  in  the  morning.  Even  though  the  chapter 
were  one  that  she  could  not  by  possibility  under 
stand  a  word  of,  yet  it  put  her  in  mind  of  things 
in  that  same  dear  book  that  she  did  understand ; 
things  that  gave  her  strength  to  live  and  hope 
to  die  by,  and  it  was  enough !  Her  faith  in  the 
Invisible  Friend  was  so  strong  that  she  needed 
but  to  touch  the  hem  of  his  garment.  Even  a 
table  of  genealogies  out  of  his  book  was  a  sacred 
charm,  an  amulet  of  peace. 

Four  sons — tall,  stout  and  ruddy,  in  dif 
ferent  stages  of  progression— surrounded  the 
table  and  caused  sausages,  rye  and  Indian 
bread,  and  pork  and  beans,  rapidly  to  dis 
appear.  Of  these  sons  two  only  were  of  the 
age  to  vote.  Zeph  rigorously  exacted  of  his  boys 
the  full  amount  of  labor  which  the  law  allowed 
till  their  majority  ;  but  at  twenty-one  he  recog- 


94  ELECTION  DA  Y  IN  POGANUC. 

nized  their  legal  status,  and  began  giving  them  the 
wages  of  hired  men.  On  this  morning  he  longed 
to  have  his  way  as  to  their  vote  ;  but  the  boys 
had  enough  of  his  own  nature  in  them  to  have  a 
purpose  and  will  of  their  own,  and  how  they  were 
to  vote  was  an  impenetrable  secret  locked  up  in 
the  rocky  fastnesses  of  their  own  bosoms. 

As  soon  as  there  were  faint  red  streaks  in  the 
wintry  sky,  Zeph's  sled  was  on  the  road,  well  load 
ed  up  with  cord-wood  to  be  delivered  at  Colonel 
Davenport's  door ;  for  Zeph  never  forgot  business 
nor  the  opportunity  of  earning  an  honest  penny. 
The  oxen  that  drew  his  sled  were  sleek,  well-fed 
beasts,  the  pride  of  Zeph's  heart,  and  a.  the  red 
sunlight  darted  across  the  snowy  hills  their 
breath  steamed  up,  a  very  luminous  cloud  of 
vapor,  which  in  a  few  moments  congealed  in 
sparkling  frost  lines  on  their  patient  eye- winkers 
and  every  little  projecting  hair  around  their  great 
noses.  The  sled-runners  creaked  and  grated 
as  Zeph,  with  loud  "  Whoa/'  "  Haw,"  or  "  Gee," 
directed  the  plodding  course  of  his  beasts.  The 
cutting\March  wind  was  blowing  right  into 
his  face;  his  shaggy,  grizzled  eye-brows  and 
bushy  beard  were  whitening  apace  ;  but  he  was 
in  good  spirits — he  was  going  to  vote  against  the 
Federalists  ;  and  as  the  largest  part  of  the  aris 
tocracy  of  Town  Hill  were  Federalists,  he  re 
joiced  all  the  more  Zeph  was  a  creature  born 


ELECTION  DA  Y  IN  POCANUC.  95 

to  oppose,  as  much  as  white  bears  are  made  to 
walk  on  ice. 

And  how,  we  ask,  would  New  England's  rocky 
soil  and  icy  hills  have  been  made  mines  ol  wealth 
unless  there  had  been  human  beings  born  to 
oppose,  delighting  to  combat  and  wrestle,  and 
with  an  unconquerable  power  of  will  ? 

Zeph  had  taken  a  thirteen-acre  lot  so  rocky 
that  a  sheep  could  scarce  find  a  nibble  there,  had 
dug  out  and  blasted  and  carted  the  rocks, 
wrought  them  into  a  circumambient  stone  fence, 
plowed  and  planted,  and  raised  crop  after  crop  of 
good  rye  thereon.  He  did  it  with  heat,  with 
zeal,  with  dogged  determination ;  he  did  it  all 
the  more  because  neighbors  said  he  was  a  fool  for 
trying,  and  that  he  could  never  raise  anything  on 
that  lot.  There  was  a  stern  joy  in  this  hand-to- 
hand  fight  with  nature.  He  got  his  bread  as 
Samson  did  his  honeycomb,  out  of  the  carcass  of 
the  slain  lion.  "  Out  of  the  eater  came  forth  meat, 
and  out  of  the  strong  came  forth  sweetness." 
Even  the  sharp  March  wind  did  npt  annoy  him. 
It  was  a  controversial  wind,  and  that  suited  him  ; 
it  was  fighting  him  all  the  way,  and  he  enjoyed 
beating  it.  Such  a  human  being  has  his  place 
in  the  Creator's  scheme. 

Poganuc  was,  for  a  still  town,  pretty  well  alive 
on  that  day.  Farmers  in  their  blue  linsey  frocks, 
with  their  long  cart  whips  and  their  sleds  hitched 


96  ELECTION  DA  Y  IN  POGANUC. 

here  and  there  at  different  doors,  formed  frequent 
objects  in  the  picture.  It  was  the  day  when  they 
felt  themselves  as  good  as  anybody.  The  court 
house  was  surrounded  by  groups  earnestly  discus 
sing  the  political  questions ;  many  of  them  loafers 
who  made  a  sort  of  holiday,  and  interspersed 
their  observations  and  remarks  with  visits  to  the 
bar-room  of  Glazier's  tavern,  which  was  doing  a 
thriving  business  that  morning. 

Standing  by  the  side  of  the  distributor  of  the 
Federal  votes  might  be  seen  a  tall,  thin  man,  with 
a  white  head  and  an  air  of  great  activity  and 
keenness.  In  his  twinkling  eye  and  in  every  line 
and  wrinkle  of  his  face  might  be  read  the  observer 
and  the  humorist ;  the  man  who  finds  something 
to  amuse  him  in  all  the  quips  and  turns  and 
oddities  of  human  nature.  This  was  Israel 
Dennie,  High  Sheriff  of  the  County,  one  of  the 
liveliest  and  shrewdest  of  the  Federal  leaders, 
who  was,  so  to  speak,  crackling  with  activity,  and 
entering  into  the  full  spirit  of  the  day  in  all  its 
phases. 

"  Here  comes  one  of  your  party,  Adams,"  he 
said  with  a  malicious  side  twinkle  to  the  distribu 
tor  of  the  Democratic  votes,  as  Abe  Bowles,  a 
noted  "  mauvais  sujct "  of  the  village,  appeared 
out  of  Glazier's  bar-room,  coming  forward  with 
a  rather  uncertain  step  and  flushed  face. 

"  Walk  up,  friend  ;  here  you  are." 


ELECTION  DA  Y  IN  POGAAUC.  97 

"  I'm  a-goin'  for  toleration,"  said  Abe,  with 
thick  utterance.  "  We've  ben  tied  up  too  tight 
by  these  'ere  ministers,  we  have.  I  don't  want  no 
priestcraft,  I  don't.  I  believe  every  man's  got  to 
do  as  he  darn  pleases,  I  do. 

"  And  go  straight  to  the  Devil  if  he  wants  to," 
said  Squire  Dennie  smoothly.  "Go  ahead,  my 
boy,  and  put  in  your  vote." 

"  There  comes  old  Zeph  Higgins,"  he  added 
with  alertness;  "  let  us  have  a  bit  of  fun  with 
him." 

"  Hulloa,  Higgins  ;  step  this  way ;  here's  Mr. 
Adams  to  give  you  your  vote.  You're  going  to 
vote  the  Democratic  ticket,  you  know." 

"  No,  I  ain't,  nuther,"  said  Zeph,  from  the  sheer 
mechanical  instinct  of  contradiction. 

"  Not  going  to  vote  with  the  Democrats,  Hig 
gins  ?  All  right,  then  you're  going  to  vote  the 
Federal  ticket ;  here  'tis." 

"No,  I  ain't,  nuther.  You  let  me  alone.  I  ain't 
a-goin'  to  be  dictated  to.  I'm  a-goin'  to  vote  jest 
as  I'm  a  mind  ter.  I  won't  vote  for  nuther,  ef  I 
ain't  a  mind  ter,  and  I'll  vote  for  jest  which  one  I 
want  ter,  and  no  other." 

"  So  you  shall,  Higgins ;  so  you  shall,"  said 
Squire  Dennie  sympathetically,  laying  his  hand 
on  Zeph's  shoulder. 

"I  shan't,  nuther;  you  let  me  alone,"  said 
Zeph,  shaking  off  the  Sheriffs  hand  ;  and  clutch- 


98  ELECTION  DA  Y  IN  POGANUC, 

ing  at  the  Democratic  ticket,  he  pushed  up 
towards  the  polls. 

•  "  There's  a  fellow,  now,"  said  Sheriff  Dennie, 
looking  after  him  with  a  laugh.  "  That  fellow's 
so  contrary  that  he  hates  to  do  the  very  thing  he 
wants  to,  if  anybody  else  wants  him  to  do  it.  If 
there  was  any  way  of  voting  that  would  spite 
both  parties  and  please  nobody,  he'd  take  that. 
The  only  way  to  get  that  fellow  to  heaven 
would  be  to  set  out  to  drive  him  to  hell;  then 
he'd  turn  and  run  up  the  narrow  way,  full 
chisel." 

It  was  some  comfort  to  Zeph,  however,  to 
work  his  way  up  to  the  polls  with  Judge  Belcher 
right  in  front  and  with  Colonel  Davenport's  aris 
tocratic,  powdered  head  and  stately  form  pushing 
him  along  behind,  their  broadcloth  crowded 
against  his  homespun  carter's  frock,  and  he, 
Zephaniah,  that  day  just  as  good  as  either.  He 
would  not  have  been  so  well  pleased  if  he  knew 
that  his  second  son,  Abner — following  not  long 
after  him — dropped  in  the  box  the  Federalist 
ticket.  It  was  his  right  as  a  freeman  ;  but  he 
had  no  better  reason  for  his  preference  than  the 
wish  to  please  his  mother.  He  knew  that  Dr. 
Gushing  was  a  Federalist,  and  that  his  mother 
was  heart  and  soul  for  every  thing  that  Dr. 
Gushing  was  for,  and  therefore  he  dropped  this 
vote  for  his  mother ;  and  thus,  as  many  times 


ELECTION  DA  Y  IN  POGANUC.  99 

before   and    since,    a   woman  voted   through  her 
son. 

In  fact,  the  political  canvass  just  at  this  epoch 
had  many  features  that   might    shock   the   pious 
sensibilities  of  a  good  house-mother.     The  union 
of  all  the  minor  religious  denominations  to  upset    .V 
the  dominant  rule  of  the  Congregationalists  had\; 
been    reinforced    and    supplemented    by  all   that 
Jacobin  and  irreligious  element  which  the  French 
Revolution  had  introduced  into  America. 

The  Poganuc  Banner,  a  little  weekly  paper 
published  in  the  village,  expended  its  energies 
in  coarse  and  scurrilous  attacks  upon  ministers 
in  general,  and  Dr.  Gushing  in  particular.  It 
ridiculed  church-members,  churches,  Sunday- 
keeping,  preaching  and  prayers  ;  in  short,  every 
custom,  preference  and  prejudice  which  it  had 
been  the  work  of  years  to  establish  in  New 
England  was  assailed  with  vulgar  wit  and 
ribaldry. 

Of  course,  the  respectable  part  of  the  Demo 
cratic  party  did  not  exactly  patronize  these 
views;  yet  they  felt  for  them  that  tolerance 
which  even  respectable  people  often  feel  in  a 
rude  push  of  society  in  a  direction  where  they 
wish  to  go.  They  wanted  the  control  of  the 
State,  and  if  rabid,  drinking,  irreligious  men 
would  give  it  to  them,  why  not  use  them  after 
their  kind?  When  the  brutes  had  won  the 


I0o  ELECTION  DA  Y  IN  POGANUC. 

battle   for   them,  they    would    take    care    of  the 
brutes,  and  get  them  back  into  their  stalls. 

The  bar-room  of  Glazier's  Tavern  was  the 
scene  of  the  feats  and  boasts  of  this  class  of 
voters.  Long  before  this  time  the  clergy  of  Con 
necticut,  alarmed  at  the  progress  of  intemper 
ance,  had  begun  to  use  influence  in  getting 
stringent  laws  and  restraints  upon  drinking,  and 
the  cry  of  course  was,  "  Down  with  the  laws." 

"  Tell  ye  what,"  said  Mark  Merrill ;  "  we've 
ben  tied  up  so  tight  we  couldn't  wink  mor'n  six 
times  a  week,  and  the  parsons  want  to  git  it  so 
we  can't  wink  at  all ;  and  we  won't  have  it  so 
no  longer ;  we're  goin'  to  have  liberty." 

"  Down  with  the  tithing-man,  say  I,"  said  Tim 
Sykes.  "  Whose  business  is  it  what  I  do  Sun 
days?  I  ain't  goin'  to  have  no  tithing-man  spying 
on  my  liberty.  I'll  do  jest  what  I'm  a  mind  ter, 
Sundays.  Ef  I  wan  ter  go  a-fishin'  Sundays,  I'll 
go  a-fishin'." 

"Tell  ye  what,''  said  Liph  Kingsley,  as  he 
stirred  his  third  glass  of  grog.  "  This  'ere  priest 
craft's  got  to  go  down.  Reason's  got  on  her 
throne,  and  chains  is  fallin'.  I'm  a  free  man 
—I  be." 

"  You  look  like  it,"  said  Kiel,  who  stood  with 
his  hands  in  his  pockets  contemptuously  survey 
ing  Liph,  while  with  leering  eye  and  unsteady 
hand  he  stirred  his  drink. 


ELECTION  D4Y  IN  POGANUC.  IOI 

"That  air's  what  you  call  Reason,  is't?"  added 
Hiel.  "  Wai,  she's  got  on  a  pretty  topplish 
throne,  seems  to  me.  I  bet  you  Reason  can't 
walk  a  crack  now,"  he  said,  as  Liph,  having 
taken  off  his  glass,  fell  with  a  helpless  dump 
upon  the  settle. 

"  Sot  down  like  a  spoonful  of  apple-saas," 
said  Hiel,  looking  him  over  sarcastically.  The 
laugh  now  turned  against  the  poor  brute,  and 
Hiel  added :  "  Wai,  boys,  s'pose  you  like  this 
'ere  sort  of  thing.  Folks  is  different;  for  my 
part  I  like  to  kinder  keep  up  a  sort  o'  differ 
ence  'tween  me  and  a  hog.  That  air's  my 
taste  ;  but  you're  welcome  to  yourn,"  and  Hiel 
went  out  to  carry  his  observations  elsewhere. 

Hiel  felt  his  own  importance  to  the  com 
munity  of  Poganuc  Center  too  much  to  have  been 
out  of  town  on  this  day,  when  its  affairs  needed 
so  much  seeing  to,  therefore  he  had  deputed 
Ned  Bissel,  a  youth  yet  wanting  some  two  years 
of  the  voting  age,  to  drive  his  team  for  him  while 
he  gave  his  undivided  attention  to  public  interests ; 
and  indeed,  as  nearly  as  mortal  man  can  be  omni 
present,  Hiel  had  been  everywhere  and  heard 
everything,  and,  as  the  French  say,  "  assisted"  gen 
erally  at  the  political  struggle.  Hiel  considered 
himself  as  the  provisional  owner  and  care-taker 
of  the  town  of  Poganuc.  It  was  our  town,  and 
Dr.  Gushing  was  our  minister,  and  the  great 


I02  ELECTION  DA  Y  IN  POGANUC. 

meeting-house  on  the  green  was  our  meeting 
house,  and  the  singers'  seat  therein  was  our 
singers'  seat,  and  he  was  ready  to  bet  on  any 
sermon,  or  action,  or  opinion  of  our  minister. 
Hiel  had  not  yet,  as  he  phrased  it,  experienced 
religion,  nor  joined  the  church  ;  but  he  "  calcu 
lated  he  should  some  of  these  days."  It  wasn't 
Doctor  Cushing's  fault  if  he  wasn't  converted,  he 
was  free  to  affirm.  Hiel  had  been  excessively 
scandalized  with  the  scurrilous  attacks  of  the 
Poganuc  Banner,  and  felt  specially  called  to  show 
his  colors  on  that  day.  He  had  assured  his 
mother  on  going  out  that  morning  that  she 
needn't  be  a  mite  afeared,  for  he  was  a-goin'  to 
stand  up  for  the  minister  through  thick  and  thin, 
and  if  any  of  them  Democrats  "  saassed "  him 
he'd  give  'em  as  good  as  they  sent. 

In  virtue  of  his  ardent  political  zeal,  he  felt 
himself  to-day  on  equal  and  speaking  terms  with 
all  the  Federal  magnates ;  he  clapped  Colonel 
Davenport  on  the  shoulder  assuringly,  and  talked 
about  "  our  side,"  and  was  familiar  with  Judge 
Belcher  and  Sheriff  Dennie — darting  hither  and 
thither,  observing  and  reporting  with  untiring 
zeal. 

But,  after  all,  that  day  the  Democrats  beat,  and 
got  the  State  of  Connecticut.  Sheriff  Dennie  was 
the  first  to  carry  the  news  of  defeat  into  the 
parsonage  at  eventide. 


ELECTION  DA  Y  IN  POGANUC.  103 

"Well,  Doctor,  we're  smashed.  Democrats 
beat  us  all  to  flinders." 

A  general  groan  arose. 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  the  Sheriff.  "  Everything  has 
voted  that  could  stand  on  its  hind  legs,  and  the 
hogs  are  too  many  for  us.  It's  a  bad  beat — bad 
beat." 

That  night  when  little  Dolly  came  in  to  family 
prayers,  she  looked  around  wondering.  Her 
father  and  mother  looked  stricken  and  overcome. 
There  was  the  sort  of  heaviness  in  the  air  that 
even  a  child  can  feel  when  deep  emotions  are 
aroused.  The  boys,  who  knew  only  in  a  general 
way  that  their  father's  side  had  been  beaten, 
looked  a  little  scared  at  his  dejected  face. 

"Father,  what  makes  you  feel  so  bad?"  said 
Will,  with  that  surprised  wonder  with  which 
children  approach  emotions  they  cannot  under 
stand. 

"  I  feel  for  the  Church  of  God,  my  child,"  he 
said,  and  then  he  sung  for  the  evening  psalm  : 

"  I  love  thy  kingdom,  Lord, 
The  house  of  thine  abode  ; 
The  Church  our  dear  Redeemer  saved 
With  his  own  precious  blood. 

For  her  my  tears  shall  fall, 

For  her  my  prayers  ascend  ; 

To  her  my  cares  and  toils  be  given 

Till  toils  and  cares  shall  end." 

In  the  prayer  tha€  followed  he  pleaded  for 
New  England  with  all  the  Hebraistic  imagery  by 


104  ELECTION  DAY  IN  POGANUC. 

which  she  was  identified  with  God's  ancient 
people : 

"  Give  ear,  O  Shepherd  of  Israel ;  thou  that 
leadest  Joseph  like  a  flock  ;  thou  that  dwellest 
between  the  cherubims,  shine  forth.  *  *  Thou 
hast  brought  a  vine  out  of  Egypt;  thou  didst 
cast  forth  the  heathen,  and  plant  it ;  thou  pre- 
paredst  room  for  it  and  didst  cause  it  to  take 
deep  root,  and  it  filled  the  land.  The  hills  were 
covered  with  the  shadow  of  it,  and  the  boughs 
thereof  were  like  the  goodly  cedars.  Why  hast 
thou  then  broken  down  her  hedges  so  that  all 
that  pass  by  the  way  do  pluck  her?  The  boar 
out  of  the  wood  doth  waste  it ;  the  wild  beast  of 
the  field  doth  devour  it.  Return,  we  beseech 
thee,  O  Lord,  and  visit  this  vine  and  vineyard 
that  thou  has  planted  and  the  branch  that  thou 
madest  strong  for  thyself." 

It  was  with  a  voice  tremulous  and  choking  with 
emotion  that  Dr.  Gushing  thus  poured  forth  the 
fears  and  the  sorrows  of  his  heart  for  the  New 
England  of  the  Puritans  ;  the  ideal  church  and 
state  which  they  came  hither  to  found. 

Little  Dolly  cried  from  a  strange  childish  fear, 
because  of  the  trouble  in  her  father's  voice.  The 
pleading  tones  affected  her,  she  knew  not  why. 
The  boys  felt  a  martial  determination  to  stand  by 
their  father  and  a  longing  to  fight  for  him.  All 
felt  as  if  something  deep  and  dreadful  must  have 


ELECTION  DAY  IN  POGANUC.  Io$ 

happened,  and  after  prayers  Dolly  climbed  into 
her  father's  lap,  and  put  both  arms  around  his 
neck,  and  said :  "  Papa,  there  sha'n't  anything 
hurt  you.  I'll  defend  you."  She  was  somewhat 
abashed  by  the  cheerful  laugh  which  followed, 
but  the  Doctor  kissed  her  and  said :  "  So  you 
shall,  dear;  be  sure  and  not  let  anything  catch 
me,"  and  then  he  tossed  her  up  in  his  arms  glee 
fully,  and  she  felt  as  if  the  trouble,  whatever  it 
was,  could  not  be  quite  hopeless. 

But  Dolly  marveled  in  her  own  soul  as  she 
went  to  bed.  She  heard  the  boys  without  stint 
reviling  the  Democrats  as  the  authors  of  all 
mischief;  and  yet  Bessie  Lewis's  father  was  a 
Democrat,  and  he  seemed  a  nice,  cheery,  good- 
natured  man,  who  now  and  then  gave  her  sticks 
of  candy,  and  there  was  his  mother,  dear  old 
Madame  Lewis,  who  gave  her  the  Christmas 
cookey.  How  could  it  be  that  such  good  people 
were  Democrats?  Poor  Dolly  hopelessly  sighed 
over  the  mystery,  but  dared  not  ask  questions. 

But  the  Rev.  Mr.  Coan  rejoiced  in  the  result 
of  the  election.  Not  that  he  was  by  any  means 
friendly  to  the  ideas  of  the  Jacobinical  party  by 
whose  help  it  had  been  carried  ;  but  because,  as 
he  said,  it  opened  a  future  for  the  church — for 
he  too  had  his  idea  of  "  The  Church."  Mean 
while  the  true  church,  invisible  to  human  eyes 
— one  in  spirit,  though  separated  by  creeds — 


106  ELECTION  DA  Y  IN  POGANUC. 

was  praying  and  looking  upward,  in  the  heart 
of  Puritan  and  Ritualist,  in  the  heart  of  old 
Madame  Lewis,  of  the  new  Church,  and  of  old 
Mrs.  Higgins,  whose  soul  was  with  the  old 
meeting-house ;  of  all  everywhere  who  with 
humble  purpose  and  divine  aspiration  were  pray 
ing  :  "  Thy  kingdom  come  ;  Thy  will  be  done.'* 

That  kingdom  was  coming  even  then — for  its 
coming  is  in  safer  hands  than  those  on  either  side 
— and  there  came  a  time,  years  after,  when  Par 
son  Gushing,  looking  back  on  that  election  and 
its  consequences,  could  say  with  another  distin 
guished  Connecticut  clergyman  : 

"  I  suffered  more  than  tongue  can  tell  for  the 
best  thing  that  ever  happened  to  old  Con 
necticut." 


CHAPTER  X. 

DOLLY'S  PERPLEXITIES. 

[OLLY  went  to  bed  that  night,  her  little 
soul  surging  and  boiling  with  conject 
ure.  All  day  scraps  of  talk  about  the 
election  had  reached  her  ears;  her 
nerves  had  been  set  vibrating  by  the  tones  of 
her  father's  prayer,  some  words  of  which  yet 
rung  in  her  ear — tones  of  passionate  pleading 
whose  purport  she  could  scarcely  comprehend. 
What  was  this  dreadful  thing  that  had  happened 
or  was  going  to  happen?  She  heard  her  brother 
Will  emphatically  laying  off  the  state  of  the  case 
to  Nabby  in  the  kitchen,  and  declaring  that  "  the 
Democrats  were  going  to  upset  the  whole  State, 
for  father  said  so." 

Exactly  what  this  meant,  Dolly  could  not  con 
ceive;  but,  coupled  with  her  mother's  sorrowful 
face  and  her  father's  prayer,  it  must  mean  some 
thing  dreadful.  Something  of  danger  to  them 
all  might  be  at  hand,  and  she  said  her  "pray  God 
to  bless  my  dear  father  and  mother"  with  unusual 
fervor. 

Revolving  the  matter  on  her  pillow,  she  had 

107 


I08  DOLLY'S  PERPLEXITIES, 

a  great  mind,  the  next  time  she  met  General 
Lewis  with  his  smiling  face,  to  walk  boldly  up 
to  him  and  remonstrate,  and  tell  him  to  let  her 
papa  alone  and  not  upset  the  State! 

Dolly  had  a  great  store  of  latent  heroism  and 
felt  herself  quite  capable  of  making  a  courageous 
defense  of  her  father — and  her  heart  swelled  with 
a  purpose  to  stand  by  him  to  the  last  gasp,  no 
matter  what  came. 

But  sleep  soon  came  down  with  her  downy 
wings,  and  the  great  blue  eyes  were  closed,  and 
Dolly  knew  nol;  a  word  more  till  waked  by  the 
jingling  of  sleigh-bells  and  the  creaking  of  sleds 
at  early  sunrise. 

She  sprang  up,  dressed  quickly,  and  ran  to  the 
window.  Evidently  the  State  had  not  been  upset 
during  the  night,  for  the  morning  was  clear, 
bright  and  glorious  as  heart  could  desire. 

The  rosy  light  of  morning  filled  the  air,  the 
dreary  snow-wreaths  lay  sparkling  in  graceful 
lines  with  tender  hues  of  blue  and  lilac  and  pink 
in  their  shadows,  and  merry  sleigh-bells  were 
ringing  and  the  boys  were  out  snow-balling  each 
other  in  mere  wantonness  of  boy  life,  while  Spring 
was  barking  frantically,  evidently  resolved  to  be 
as  frisky  a  boy  as  any  of  them. 

The  fears  and  apprehensions  of  last  night  were 
all  gone  like  a  cloud,  and  she  hurried  down  into 
the  kitchen  to  find  Nabby  stirring  up  her  buck- 


KIEL  IN  HIS  GLORY. 

"And  wasn't  you  running  to  look  at  him?"  asked  Dolly. 

"Land  o1  Goshen,  no/11  said  Nabby,     "  I  jest  wanted  to 

•well,  them  horses  he's  got"     .    .     "Oh"  said  Dolly* — p.  109. 


DOLLY'S  PERPLEXITIES. 


109 


wheat  batter,  and  running  to  the  window  to  see 
Hiel  go  by  on  the  stage,  kissing  his  hand  to  her 
as  he  passed. 

"  I  declare!  the  imperence  of  that  cretur,"  said 
Nabby. 

"What,  Hiel?"  asked  Dolly. 

"Yes,  Hiel  Jones!  he's  the  conceitedest  fellow 
that  ever  I  did  see.  You  can't  look  out  of  a  win 
dow  but  he  thinks  your  running  to  look  at  ///;;/." 
."And  wasn't  you  running  to  look  at  him?" 
asked  Dolly. 

"  Land  o'  Goshen,  no  !  What  should  I  want 
to  look  at  him  for?  I  jest  wanted  to  see — well, 
them  horses  he's  got.'* 

"Oh,"  said  Dolly. 

Upon  reflection  she  added, 

"I  thought  you  liked  Hiel,  Nabby." 

"You  thought  I  liked  Hiel?"  said  Nabby 
laughing.  "  What  a  young  'un !  Why,  I  can't 
bear  the  sight  of  him,"  and  Nabby  greased  her 
griddle  with  combative  energy.  "  He's  the  saas- 
siest  fellow  I  ever  see.  1  cant  bear  him!" 

Dolly  reflected  on  this  statement  gravely, 
while  Nabby  dropped  on  the  first  griddleful  of 
cakes;  finally  she  said, 

"  If  you  don't  like  Hiel,  Nabby,  what  made  you 
sit  up  so  late  with  him  Christmas  night?" 

"  Who  said  I  did  ?"  said  Nabby,  beginning  to 
turn  griddle-cakes  with  velocity. 


no  DOLLY'S  PERPLEXITIES. 

11  Why,  Will  and  Tom ;  they  both  say  so.  They 
heard  when  Hiel  went  out  the  kitchen  door,  and 
they  counted  the  clock  striking  twelve  just  as  he 
went.  Will  says  he  kissed  you,  too,  Nabby.  Did 
he?" 

'•  Well,  if  ever  I  see  such  young  'uns !"  said 
Nabby,  flaming  carnation  color  over  the  fire  as 
she  took  off  the  cakes.  "  That  Bill  is  saassy 
enough  to  physic  a  hornbug.  I  never  see  the 
beat  of  him !" 

"But  did  Hiel  stay  so  late,  Nabby?" 

"  Well,  yes,  to  be  sure  he  did.  I  thought  I 
never  should  have  got  him  out  of  the  house.  If 
I  hadn't  let  him  kiss  me  I  believe  in  my  soul  I'd 
'a'  had  to  set  up  with  him  till  morning  ;  he  said  he 
wouldn't  go  without.  I've  been  mad  at  him  ever 
since.  I  told  him  never  to  show  his  face  here 
again ;  but  I  know  he'll  come.  He  does  it  on 
purpose  to  plague  me." 

"  That  is  dreadful !"  said  Dolly,  meditatively 
"  I  wouldn't  let  him.  I'll  tell  you  what,"  she 
added,  with  animation,  "/'//  talk  to  him  and  tell 
him  he  mustn't  come  here  any  more.  Sha'n't  I, 
Nabby?" 

But  Nabby  laughed  and  said,  "  No,  no ;  little 
girls  mustn't  talk  so.  Don't  you  never  say 
nothin'  to  Hiel  about  it;  if  you  do  I  won't  tell 
you  no  more.  Here,  carry  in  this  plate  o'  cakes, 
for  they're  eatin'  breakfast.  I  heard  your  pa 


DOLLY'S  PERPLEXITIES.  Irl 

askin'  blessin'  just  after  you  came  down.  You 
carry  these  in  while  I  get  on  the  next  griddle- 
ful." 

Dolly  assumed  her  seat  at  table,  but  there 
again  the  trouble  met  her.  Her  father  and 
mother  were  talking  together  with  sad,  anxious 
faces. 

"  It  is  a  most  mysterious  dispensation  why  this 
is  allowed,"  said  her  mother. 

<4  Yes,  my  dear,  '  clouds  and  darkness  are  round 
about  Him/  but  we  must  have  faith." 

Here  Spring  varied  the  discourse  by  putting 
his  somber  black  visage  over  Dolly's  arm  and 
resting  his  nose  familiarly  on  the  table,  whereat 
she  couldn't  help  giving  him  the  half  of  a  griddle- 
cake. 

"  How  many  times  must  I  tell  you,  Dolly,  that 
Spring  is  never  to  be  fed  at  the  table?"  said  her 
mother.  "  I  love  dogs,"  she  added,  "  but  it  spoils 
them  to  be  fed  at  table." 

"  Why,  papa  does  it  sometimes,"  pleaded  Tom. 

Mrs.  Gushing  was  obliged  to  confess  to  the 
truth  of  this,  for  the  doctor  when  pursuing  the 
deeper  mazes  of  theology  was  sometimes  so 
abstracted  that  his  soul  took  no  note  of  what  his 
body  was  doing,  and  he  had  been  more  than  once 
detected  in  giving  Spring  large  rations  under  the 
table  while  expounding  some  profound  mysteries 
of  foreknowledge  and  free  will. 


H2  DOLLY'S  PERPLEXITIES. 

Tom's  remark  was  a  home-thrust,  but  his 
mother  said,  reprovingly : 

"  Your  father  never  means  to  do  it ;  but  he  has 
so  much  to  do  and  think  of  that  he  is  sometimes 
absent-minded." 

A  conscious  twinkle  might  have  been  observed 
playing  about  the  blue  eyes  of  the  doctor,  and 
a  shrewd  observer  might  have  surmised  that  the 
offense  was  not  always  strictly  involuntary,  for 
the  doctor,  though  a  most  docile  and  tractable 
husband,  still  retained  here  and  there  traces  of 
certain  wild  male  instincts  and  fell  at  times  into 
singular  irregularities.  He  had  been  known  to 
upset  all  Mrs.  Cushing's  nicely  arranged  yarn- 
baskets  and  stocking-baskets  and  patch-baskets, 
pouring  the  contents  in  a  heap  on  the  floor,  and 
carrying  them  off  bodily  to  pick  up  chestnuts  in, 
.when  starting  off  with  the  children  on  a  nutting 
expedition.  He  would  still  persist  at  intervals  in 
going  to  hunt  eggs  in  the  barn  with  Dolly,  and 
putting  the  fruits  of  the  search  in  his  coat-tail 
pocket,  though  he  had  once  been  known  to  sit 
down  on  a  pocketful  at  a  preparatory  lecture,  the 
bell  for  which  rung  while  he  was  yet  on  the 
hay-mow. 

On  this  occasion,  therefore,  Spring  made  an 
opportune  diversion  in  the  mournful  turn  the 
conversation  was  taking.  The  general  tone  of 
remark  became  slightly  admonitory  on  the  part 


DOLL  Y'S  PERPLEXITIES.  1 1 3 

of  Mrs.  dishing  and  playfully  defensive  on  the 
part  of  the  doctor.  In  their  "  heart  of  heart " 
the  boys  believed  their  father  sometimes  fed 
Spring  when  he  did  know  what  he  was  about, 
and  this  belief  caused  constant  occasional  lapses 
from  strict  statute  law  on  their  part. 

That  morning,  in  prayers,  their  father  read  : 
"God  is  our  refuge  and  strength,  a  very  pres 
ent  help  in  time  of  trouble.  Therefore  will  we 
not  fear,  though  the  earth  be  removed ;  though 
the  mountains  be  carried  into  the  midst  of  the 
sea;"  and  at  those  verses  he  stopped  and  said: 
"There,  my  dear,  there  must  be  our  comfort." 
And  then  they  sung: 

"  Oh   God,  our  help  in  ages  past, 

Our  hope  for  years  to  come, 
Our  shelter  from  the  stormy  blast, 
And  our  eternal  home." 

Then  in  prayer  he  plead  for  the  Church — the 
Church  of  God,  the  vine  of  his  planting — and 
said  : 

"When  the  enemy  cometh  in  like  a  flood, 
may  Thy  spirit  lift  up  a  standard  against  them ;" 
and  again  Dolly  trembled  and  wondered.  But 
after  prayers  Bill  suddenly  burst  back  into  the 
house. 

"Oh!  mamma,  there  is  a  bluebird!  Spring  is 
come !" 

"  A  bluebird  !  Impossible  so  early  in  March. 
You  must  be  mistaken." 


1I4  DOLLY'S  PERPLEXITIES. 

"  No.  Come  to  the  door ;  you  can  hear  him 
just  as  plain  !" 

And,  sure  enough,  on  the  highest  top  of  the 
great  button- ball  tree  opposite  the  house  sat 
the  little  blue  angel  singing  with  all  his  might 
— a  living  sapphire  dropped  down  from  the  walls 
of  the  beautiful  city  above.  A  most  sanguine 
and  imprudent  bluebird  certainly  he  must  have 
been,  though  the  day  was  so  lovely  and  the 
great  icicles  on  the  eaves  of  the  house  were 
actually  commencing  to  drip.  But  there  un 
doubtedly  he  was — herald  and  harbinger  of  good 
days  to  come. 

"  It  is  an  omen,"  said  the  doctor,  as  he  put 
his  arms  fondly  round  his  wife.  "  The  Lord 
liveth,  and  blessed  be  our  rock !" 

And  the  boys  and  Dolly  ran  out,  shouting 
wildly, 

"  There's  been  a  bluebird.  Spring  is  coming 
— spring  is  coming  !" 


CHAPTER  XI. 

DOLLY  AND  NABBY  INVITED  OUT. 

[ES.  Spring  was  coming ;  the  little  blue 
herald  was  right,  though  he  must  have 
chilled  his  beak  and  frozen  his  toes  as 
he  sat  there.  But  he  came  from  the 
great  Somewhere,  where  things  are  always  bright ; 
where  life  and  summer  and  warmth  and  flowers 
are  forever  going  on  while  we  are  bound  down 
under  ice  and  snow. 

There  was  a  thrill  in  the  hearts  of  all  the 
children  that  day,  with  visions  of  coming  violets, 
hepaticas  and  anemones,  of  green  grass  and  long 
bright  sunny  rambles  by  the  side  of  the  Poganuc 
river. 

The  boys  were  so  premature  in  hope  as  to 
get  out  their  store  of  fish-hooks,  and  talk  of 
trouting.  The  Doctor  looked  over  his  box  of 
garden  seeds,  and  read  the  labels.  "  Early  Let 
tuce,"  "  Early  Cucumbers,"  "  Summer  Squashes" 
— all  this  was  inspiring  reading,  and  seemed 
to  help  him  to  have  faith  that  a  garden  was 
coming  round  again,  though  the  snow  banks  yet 

115 


IT6          DOLLY  AND   NABBY  INVITED   OUT. 

lay  over  the  garden-spot  deep  and  high.  All  day 
long  it  thawed  and  melted  ;  a  warm  south  wind 
blew  and  the  icicles  dripped,  so  that  there  was 
a  continual  patter. 

Two  circumstances  of  importance  in  Dolly's 
horoscope  combined  on  this  happy  day :  Hiel 
invited  Nabby  to  an  evening  sleigh-ride  after 
supper,  and  Mrs.  Davenport  invited  her  father 
and  mother  to  a  tea-drinking  at  the  same  time. 

Notwithstanding  her  stout  words  about  Hiel, 
Nabby  in  the  most  brazen  and  decided  manner 
declared  her  intention  to  accept  his  invitation, 
because  (as  she  remarked)  "  Hiel  had  just 
bought  a  bran  new  sleigh,  and  Almiry  Smith 
had  said  publicly  that  she  was  going  to  ha\e 
the  first  ride  in  that  air  sleigh,  and  she  would 
like  to  show  Almiry  that  she  didn't  know  every 
thing."  Nabby  had  inherited  from  her  father  a 
fair  share  of  combativeness,  which  was  always 
bubbling  and  boiling  within  her  comely  person 
at  the  very  idea  of  imaginary  wrongs  ;  and,  as 
she  excitedly  wiped  her  tea-cups,  she  went  on : 

"  That  air  Almiry  Smith  is  a  stuck-up  thing ; 
always  turning  up  her  nose  at  me,  and  talking 
about  my  being  a  hired  gal.  What's  the  dif 
ference  ?  I  live  out  and  work,  and  she  stays  to 
home  and  works.  I  work  for  the  minister's 
folks  and  get  my  dollar  a  week,  and  she  works 
for  her  father  and  don't  git  nothin'  but  just  her 


DOLLY  AND  NABBY  INVITED   OUT.          II7 

board  and  her  keep.  So,  I  don't  see  why  she 
need  take  airs  over  me — and  she  sha'n't  doit!" 

But  there  was  a  tranquilizing  influence  breath 
ing  over  Nabby's  soul,  and  she  soon  blew  off  the 
little  stock  of  spleen  and  invited  Dolly  into  her 
bed-room  to  look  at  her  new  Leghorn  bonnet, 
just  home  from  Miss  Hinsdale's  milliner-shop, 
which  she  declared  was  too  sweet  for  anything. 

Now,  Leghorn  bonnets  were  a  newly-imported 
test  of  station,  grandeur  and  gentility  in  Poganuc. 
Up  to  this  period  the  belles  of  New  England  had 
worn  braided  straw,  abundantly  pretty,  and  often 
braided  by  the  fair  fingers  of  the  wearers  them 
selves,  while  they  studied  their  lessons  or  read 
the  last  novel  or  poem. 

But  this  year  Miss  Hetty  Davenport,  and  Miss 
Ellen  Dennie,  and  the  blooming  daughters  of  the 
governor,  and  the  fair  Maria  Gridley  had  all 
illuminated  their  respective  pews  in  the  meeting 
house  with  Leghorn  flats — large  and  fine  of  braid, 
and  tremulous  with  the  delicacy  of  their  fiber. 
Similar  wonders  appeared  on  the  heads  of  the 
juvenile  aristocracy  of  the  Episcopal  church ;  and 
the  effect  was  immediate. 

Straw  bonnets  were  "  no  where."  To  have  a 
Leghorn  was  the  thing ;  and  Miss  Hinsdale  im 
ported  those  of  many  qualities  and  prices,  to  suit 
customers.  Nabby's  was  not  of  so  fine  a  braid  as 
that  of  the  governor's  daughters  ;  still  it  was  a 


u8          DOLLY  AND  NABBY  INVITED   OUT. 

real  Leghorn  hat,  and  her  soul  was  satisfied.  She 
wanted  a  female  bosom  to  sympathize  with  her 
in  this  joy,  and  Dolly  was  the  chosen  one. 

Proud  of  this  confidence,  Dolly  looked,  ex 
claimed,  admired,  and  assisted  at  the  toilette- 
trial — yet  somewhat  wondering  at  the  facility 
with  which  Nabby  forgot  all  her  stringent  decla 
rations  of  the  morning  before. 

"  You  don't  suppose  he  would  dare  to  kiss  you 
again,  Nabby  ?"  Dolly  suggested  timidly,  while 
Nabby  stood  at  the  glass  with  her  bonnet  on, 
patting  her  curls,  shaking  her  head,  pulling  into 
place  here  a  bow  and  there  a  flower. 

"  Why,  Dolly  Gushing/'  said  Nabby,  laughing; 
"  what  a  young  'un  you  are  to  remember  things  ! 
I  never  saw  such  a  child  !  " 

"  But  you   said  " cried  Dolly, — 

"  Oh,  never  mind  what  I  said.  Do  you  suppose 
I  can't  keep  that  fellow  in  order  ?  I'd  just  like  to 
have  him  try  it  again— and  see  what  he'd  get ! 
There  now,  what  do  you  think  of  that  ?  "  And 
Nabby  turned  round  and  showed  a  general 
twinkle  of  nodding  flowers,  fluttering  ribbons, 
bright  black  eyes,  and  cheeks  with  laughing 
dimples  which  came  and  went  as  she  spoke  or 
laughed. 

"  Nabby,  I  do  declare,  you  are  splendid,"  said 
Dolly.  "  Hiel  said  once  you  was  the  hand 
somest  girl  in  Poganuc." 


DOLLY  AND  NABBY  INVITED   OUT.          II9 

-He  did,  did  he?  Well,  I'll  let  him  know  a 
thing  or  two  before  I've  done  with  him  ;  and 
Almiry  Smith,  too,  with  her  milk-and-water  face 
and  stringy  curls." 

"Did  that  bonnet  cost  a  great  deal?"  asked 
Dolly. 

"What  do  you  mean,  child?"  asked  Nabby, 
turning  quickly  and  looking  at  her. 

"  Nothing,  only  Mrs.  Davenport  said  that  hired 
girls  were  getting  to  dress  just  like  ladies." 

Nabby  flared  up  and  grew  taller,  and  seemed 
about  to  rise  from  the  floor  in  spontaneous  com 
bustion. 

"I  declare!"  she  said.  "That's  just  like  these 
'ere  stuck-up  Town  Hill  folks.  Do  they  think 
nobody's  to  have  silk  gowns  and  Leg'orn  bon 
nets  but  them?  Who's  a  better  right,  I  should 
like  to  know?  Don't  we  work  for  our  money, 
and  ain't  it  ourn?  and  ain't  we  just  as  good  as 
they  be?  I'll  buy  just  such  clothes  as  I  see  fit, 
and  if  anybody  don't  like  it  why  they  may  lump 
it,  that's  all.  I've  a  better  right  to  my  bonnet 
than  Hetty  Davenport  has  to  hers,  for  I  earned 
the  money  to  pay  for  it,  and  she  just  lives  to 
do  nothing,  and  be  a  bill  of  expense  to  her 
folks." 

Dolly  cowered  under  this  little  hurricane ;  but, 
Poganuc  being  a  windy  town,  Dolly  had  full 
experience  that  the  best  way  to  meet  a  sudden 


I20         DOLLY  AND  NAB  BY  INVITED   OUT. 

gust  is  to  wait  for  it  to  blow  itself  out,  as  she 
did  on  the  present  occasion.  In  a  minute  Nabby 
laughed  and  was  herself  again ;  it  was  impossible 
to  be  long  uncomfortable  with  a  flower  garden 
on  one's  head. 

"  I  shall  be  lonesome  to-night  without  you, 
Nabby,"  said  Dolly;  "the  boys  talk  Latin  to 
me  and  plague  me  when  I  want  to  play  with 
them." 

"  Oh,  I  heard  Mis'  Gushing  say  she  was  going 
to  take  you  to  the  tea-party,  and  that  '11  be  just 
as  good  for  you." 

Dolly  jumped  up  and  down  for  joy  and  ran 
to  her  mother  only  to  have  the  joyful  tidings 
confirmed.  "  I  shall  never  leave  Dolly  alone  in 
the  house  again,  with  nobody  but  the  boys,"  she 
said,  "  and  I  shall  take  her  with  us.  It  will  be 
a  lesson  in  good  manners  for  her." 

It  may  have  been  perceived  by  the  intimations 
of  these  sketches  hitherto  that  there  were  in  the 
town  of  Poganuc  two  distinct  circles  of  people, 
who  mingled  in  public  affairs  as  citizens  and  in 
church  affairs  as  communicants,  but  who  rarely 
or  never  met  on  the  same  social  plane. 

There  was  the  haute  noblesse — very  affably  dis 
posed,  and  perfectly  willing  to  condescend ;  and 
there  was  the  proud  democracy,  prouder  than 
the  noblesse,  who  wouldn't  be  condescended  to, 
and  insisted  on  having  their  way  and  their  say, 


DOLLY  AND   NABBY  INVITED   OUT.          I2i 

on   the   literal,  actual   standpoint  of  the  original 
equality  of  human  beings. 

The  sons  and  daughters  of  farmers  and  me 
chanics  would  willingly  exchange  labor  with  each 
other ;  the  daughters  would  go  to  a  neighboring 
household  where  daughters  were  few,  and  help 
in  the  family  work,  and  the  sons  likewise  would 
hire  themselves  out  where  there  was  a  deficiency 
of  man-power ;  but  they  entered  the  family  as  full 
equals,  sharing  the  same  table,  the  same  amuse 
ments,  the  same  social  freedoms,  with  the  family 
they  served. 

It  was  because  the  Town  Hill  families  wished 
to  hire  servants,  according  to  the  Old-World 
acceptation  of  the  term,  that  it  became  a  matter 
of  exceeding  difficulty  to  get  any  of  the  free 
democratic  citizens  or  citizenesses  to  come  to 
them  in  that  capacity. 

Only  the  absolute  need  of  money  reconciled 
any  of  them  to  taking  such  a  place,  and  then 
they  took  it  with  a  secret  heart-burning  and  a 
jealous  care  to  preserve  their  own  personal 
dignity. 

Nabby  had  compromised  her  pride  in  working 
for  "  the  minister,"  for  the  minister  in  early  New 
England  times  was  the  first  gentleman  of  the 
parish,  and  a  place  in  his  family  was  a  different 
thing  from  one  in  any  other. 

Nevertheless,    Nabby    required    to    be   guided 


I22          DOLLY  AND  NABBY  INVITED   OUT. 

with  a  delicate  hand  and  governed  with  tact  and 
skill.  There  were  things  that  no  free-born  Amer 
ican  girl  would  do,  and  Mrs.  Gushing  had  the 
grace  not  to  expect  those  things.  For  instance, 
no  Yankee  girl  would  come  at  the  ringing  of  a 
bell.  To  expect  this  would,  as  they  held  it,  be  to 
place  them  on  a  level  with  the  negroes  still 
retained  as  servants  in  some  old  families.  It  was 
useless  to  argue  the  point.  Nabby's  cheeks  would 
flush,  and  her  eyes  flash,  and  the  string  of  her 
tongue  would  be  loosed,  and  she  would  pour 
forth  torrents  of  declamation  if  one  attempted  to 
show  that  calling  by  a  bell  was  no  worse  than 
calling  by  the  voice  or  sending  out  one  of  the 
children.  Mrs.  Gushing  did  not  try  to  do  it. 

Another  point  was  the  right  to  enter  the  house 
by  the  front  door.  Now,  as  Nabby's  work  lay 
in  the  kitchen  and  as  her  sleeping-room  was  just 
above,  it  was  manifestly  an  inconvenience  to  enter 
by  any  other  than  the  kitchen  door.  Neverthe 
less,  she  had  heard  the  subject  discussed  among 
other  girls,  and  had  admired  the  spirit  shown  by 
her  intimate  friend,  Maria  Pratt,  when  Mrs.  Israel 
Deyter  pointed  out  to  her  the  propriety  of  enter 
ing  by  the  back  door, — "  Mrs.  Deyter,  do  you 
think  there  will  be  a  back  and  a  front  door  to 
heaven  ?" 

But  Mrs.  Gushing  avoided  the  solution  of  this 
theological  problem  by  looking  on  with  a  smile 


DOLLY  AND  NABBY  INVITED   OUT.          12^ 

of  calm  amusement  when  Nabby  very  conspicu 
ously  and  perse veringly  persisted  in  entering  by 
the  front  door  the  first  week  of  her  engagement 
with  the  family.  As  nothing  was  said  and 
nothing  done  about  it,  Nabby  gradually  declined 
into  doing  what  was  most  convenient — went  the 
shortest  way  to  her  work  and  room.  Nabby  was 
in  her  way  and  place  a  person  worth  making 
concessions  to,  for  she  was  a  workwoman  not  to 
be  despised.  Her  mother,  Mrs.  Higgins,  was 
one  of  those  almost  fabulous  wonders  of  house 
hold  genius  who  by  early  rising,  order,  system, 
neatness  and  dispatch  reduced  the  seemingly 
endless  labors  of  a  large  family  to  the  very 
minimum  of  possibility.  Consequently  there  was 
little  occasion  for  the  mistress  of  a  family  to 
overlook  or  to  teach  Nabby.  When  she  entered 
the  household  she  surveyed  the  situation  with 
trained  eyes,  took  an  account  of  all  work  to  be 
done,  formed  her  system  and  walked  through  it 
daily  with  energetic  ease,  always  securing  to 
herself  two  or  three  hours  of  leisure  every  day  in 
which  to  do  her  own  cutting,  fitting  and  sewing. 
According  to  the  maxims  in  which  she  had  been 
brought  up,  a  girl  that  did  not  "do  up  her  work 
in  the  morning,"  so  as  to  have  this  interval  of 
leisure,  was  not  mistress  of  her  business.  On 
washing  days  Nabby's  work  began  somewhere  in 
the  latter  part  of  the  night,  and  daylight  saw  her 


124 


DOLLY  AND  NABBY  INVITED   OUT. 


flags  of  victory  waving  on  the  lines  in  the  shape 
of  renovated  linen,  and  Nabby  with  great  com 
posure  getting  breakfast  as  on  any  other  day. 

She  took  all  her  appointed  work  as  a  matter 
of  course.  Strong,  young,  and  healthy,  she 
scarcely  knew  what  fatigue  was.  She  was  cheer 
ful,  obliging,  and  good  tempered,  as  thoroughly 
healthy  people  generally  are.  There  was,  to 
be  sure,  a  little  deposit  of  gunpowder  in  Nabby's 
nature,  and  anybody  who  chose  to  touch  a  match 
to  her  self-esteem,  her  sense  of  personal  dignity 
or  independence,  was  likely  to  see  a  pretty  lively 
display  of  fireworks ;  but  it  was  always  soon 
over,  and  the  person  making  the  experiment 
did  not  generally  care  to  repeat  it. 

But  Kiel  Jones  found  this  chemical  experiment 
irresistibly  fascinating,  and  apparently  did  not 
care  how  often  he  burned  his  fingers  with  it. 
Hiel  was  somewhat  blase  with  easy  conquests. 

The  female  sex  have  had  in  all  ages  their  spoiled 
favorites,  who  are  ungrateful  just  in  proportion 
to  the  favors  bestowed  upon  them;  and  Hiel 
was  in  his  circle  as  much  courted  and  pursued 
with  flattering  attentions  as  any  spoiled  tenor  of 
the  modern  opera.  For  him  did  Lucinda  and 
Jane  bake  surreptitious  mountains  of  sponge  cake. 
Small  tributes  of  cream,  butter,  pies  of  various 
name  and  model,  awaited  him  at  different 
stopping-places,  and  were  handed  him  by  fair 


DOLLY  AND  NABBY  INVITED    OUT.          I25 

hands  with  flattering  smiles.  The  Almira  of 
whom  Nabby  discoursed  with  such  energetic 
vehemence  had  knit  Hiel  a  tippet,  worked  his 
name  on  a  pocket-handkerchief  with  her  hair,  and 
even  gone  so  far  as  to  present  him  with  one  of 
the  long  yellow  curls  which  Nabby  was  pleased 
to  call  "  stringy."  Nabby's  curls  certainly  could 
not  have  merited  any  such  epithet,  as  every 
separate  one  of  them  had  a  will  and  a  way  of 
its  own,  and  all  were  to  the  full  as  mutinous 
as  their  mistress.  Yet  Hiel  would  have  given 
more  for  one  of  those  rebellious  curls  than  for 
all  Almira's  smooth-brushed  locks,  and  although 
a  kiss  from  Nabby  was  like  a  kiss  from  one  on 
an  electric  stool,  snapping  and  prickling  at  every 
touch,  yet  somehow  the  perverse  Hiel  liked  the 
excitement  of  the  shock. 

Hiel's  tactics  for  the  subjugation  of  a  female 
heart  were  in  the  spirit  of  a  poet  he  never 
heard  of: 

"  Pique  her,  and  soothe  in  turns  ; 
Soon  passion  crowns  thy  hopes." 

He  instituted  a  series  of  regular  quarrels  with 
Nabby,  varied  by  flattering  attentions,  and  de 
lighted  to  provoke  her  to  anger,  sure  that  she 
would  say  a  vast  deal  more  than  she  meant,  and 
then,  in  the  reaction  which  is  always  sure  to 
follow  in  the  case  of  hot-tempered,  generous 
people,  he  should  find  his  advantage. 


I26          DOLLY  AND  NABBY  INVITED   OUT. 

So,  when  the  stars  looked  out  blinking  and 
winking  through  a  steel-blue  sky,  Nabby,  in  the 
fascinating  new  bonnet,  was  handed  into  the 
smart  new  sleigh,  tucked  in  with  Hiel  under 
a  profusion  of  buffalo  robes,  and  went  jingling 
away.  A  supper  and  a  dance  awaited  them  at 
a  village  tavern  ten  miles  off,  and  other  sleighs 
and  other  swains  with  their  ladies  were  on  the 
same  way,  where  we  take  our  leave  of  them  to 
follow  our  little  Dolly  into  the  parlors  of  the 
haute  noblesse. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

DOLLY   GOES   INTO   COMPANY. 

[HEN  Dolly  found  herself  arrayed  in  her 
red  dress  and  red  shoes,  her  hair 
nicely  curled,  she  was  so  happy  that,  to 
speak  scripturally,  she  leaped  for  joy — 
flew  round  and  round  with  her  curls  flying,  like  a 
little  mad-cap — till  her  mother  was  obliged  to 
apply  a  sedative  exhortation. 

"  Take  care,  Dolly ;  take  care.  I  can't  take 
you,  now,  unless  you  are  good.  If  you  get 
so  wild  as  that  I  shall  have  to  leave  you  at 
home.  Come  here,  and  let  me  talk  to  you." 

And  Dolly  came  and  stood,  grave  and  serious, 
at  her  mother's  knee,  who,  while  she  made  over 
and  arranged  some  of  the  tumbled  curls,  pro 
ceeded  to  fortify  her  mind  for  the  coming  emer 
gency  with  suitable  precepts. 

"  It's  a  great  thing  for  a  little  girl  like  you, 
Dolly,  to  be  allowed  to  sit  up  with  grown  people 
till  nine  o'clock,  and  to  go  out  with  your  mamma, 
and  I  want  you  to  be  very  careful  and  behave  as 
a  good  little  girl  should.  I  take  you,  so  that  you 

may  learn  good  manners.    Now,  remember,  Dolly, 

127 


I28  DOLLY  GOES  INTO   COMPANY. 

you  mustn't  speak  to  any  of  them  unless  you  are 
spoken  to." 

Dolly  reflected  on  this  precept  gravely,  and 
then  said : 

"Don't  they  speak  to  any  one  except  when 
they  are  spoken  to  ?  " 

"  Yes,  my  dear,  because  they  are  grown-up 
people,  and  know  when  to  speak  and  what  is 
proper  to  be  said.  Little  girls  do  not ;  so  they 
must  be  silent.  Little  girls  should  be  seen  and 
not  heard." 

Dolly  knew  this  maxim  by  heart  already,  and 
she  no  more  questioned  the  propriety  of  it  than 
of  any  of  the  great  laws  of  nature. 

After  an  interval  of  serious  reflection,  she  asked: 

"  But,  if  any  of  them  should  talk  to  me,  then  I 
may  talk  to  them  ;  may  I  ?  " 

"  Yes,  my  dear ;  if  any  body  talks  to  you,  you 
must  answer,  but  be  careful  not  to  talk  too  long." 

"  Do  you  think,  Mamma,  that  Judge  Gridley 
will  be  there?" 

"  Yes,  my  dear,  I  presume  so." 

"  Because  I  am  acquainted  with  him,"  remarked 
Dolly  gravely ;  "  he  always  talks  to  me.  He 
meets  me  sometimes  coming  home  from  school 
and  talks  to  me.  I  am  glad  he  will  be  there." 

Mrs.  Gushing  smiled  aside  to  her  husband  as 
she  was  tying  on  Dolly's  little  hood,  and  then  her 
father  took  her  up  in  his  arms  and  they  started. 


DOLLY  GOES  INTO   COMPANY.  I2g 

Tea  parties  in  the  highest  circles  of  Poganuc 
began  at  six  and  ended  at  nine,  and  so  when 
Dolly  and  her  father  and  mother  arrived  they 
found  a  room  full  of  people.  Col.  Davenport  was 
a  tall,  elegant  man,  with  an  upright,  soldierly 
carriage,  his  hair  powdered  white,  and  tied  in  a 
queue  down  his  back ;  his  eyes  of  a  clear,  piercing 
blue,  looking  out  each  side  of  a  well-defined 
aquiline  nose ;  his  voice  deep  and  musical,  with 
a  sort  of  resonance  which  spoke  of  one  used  to 
command.  The  Colonel  was  one  of  the  most 
active  members  of  the  church  ; — the  one  who  in 
the  absence  of  the  pastor  officiated  as  lay-reader, 
and  rendered  the  sermon  and  made  the  prayers, 
in  the  same  sonorous,  military  voice  that  sug 
gested  the  field  and  the  commander.  Mrs. 
Davenport,  a  lady  of  delicate  and  refined  appear 
ance,  with  a  certain  high-bred  manner  toned 
down  to  a  kind  of  motherly  sweetness,  received 
the  Doctor  and  Mrs.  Cushing  with  effusion, 
kissed  and  patted  Dolly  on  the  cheek,  and  re 
marked  what  a  nice  little  girl  she  was  getting 
to  be ;  and  the  Colonel  stooped  down  and  took 
her  hand,  like  an  affable  eagle  making  court  to  a 
little  humming-bird,  and  hoped  she  was  quite 
well,  to  which  Dolly,  quite  overcome  with  awe, 
answered  huskily :  "  Very  well,  I  thank  you,  sir." 

Then  kind  Mrs.  Davenport  busied  herself  in 
ordering  to  the  front  a  certain  little  chair  that 


I3o  DOLLY  GOES  INTO    COMPANY. 

had  a  family  history.  This  was  duly  brought  and 
placed  for  Dolly  by  old  Cato,  an  ancient  negro 
servitor  of  the  Colonel's,  who  had  once  served  as 
his  waiter  in  the  army,  and  had  never  recovered 
from  the  sense  of  exaltation  and  dignity  conferred 
by  this  experience.  Dolly  sat  down,  and  began 
employing  her  eyes  about  the  high  and  dainty 
graces  of  the  apartment.  The  walls  were  hung 
with  paper  imported  from  France  and  ornamented 
with  family  portraits  by  Copley.  In  the  fire 
place,  the  high  brass  andirons  sustained  a  magnifi 
cent  fire,  snapping  and  sparkling  and  blazing  in  a 
manner  gorgeous  to  behold.  Soon  Cato  came 
in  with  the  tea  on  a  waiter,  followed  by  Venus, 
his  wife,  who,  with  a  high  white  turban  on  her 
head  and  a  clear-starched  white  apron  in  front, 
bore  after  him  a  tray  laden  with  delicate  rolls, 
sandwiches,  and  multiplied  and  tempting  varieties 
of  cake.  Dolly  spread  her  handkerchief  in 
her  little  lap,  and  comported  herself  as  nearly 
as  possible  as  she  saw  the  grand  ladies 
doing,  who,  in  satin  and  velvet  and  point 
lace,  were  making  themselves  agreeable,  and 
taking  their  tea  with  elegant  ease. 

The  tea  parties  of  Poganuc  were  not  wanting 
in  subjects  for  conversation.  It  was  in  rule  to 
discuss  the  current  literature  of  the  day,  which 
at  that  time  came  from  across  the  water — the  last 
articles  in  the  Edinburgh  Review,  the  latest  Waver- 


DOLLY  GOES  INTO   COMPANY.  I3I 

ley  novel,  the  poetry  of  Moore,  Byron,  Southey, 
and  Wordsworth — all  came  under  review  and  had 
place  of  consideration. 

In  those  days,  when  newspapers  were  few  and 
scanty,  when  places  were  isolated  and  travel  was 
tedious  and  uncertain,  the  intellectual  life  of  culti 
vated  people  was  intense.  A  book  was  an  event 
in  Poganuc.  It  was  heard  of  first  across  the 
ocean,  and  watched  for,  as  one  watches  for  the 
rising  of  a  new  planet.  While  the  English  packet 
was  slowly  laboring  over,  bearing  it  to  our  shores, 
expectation  was  rising,  and  when  the  book  was  to 
be  found  in  the  city  book  stores  an  early  copy 
generally  found  its  way  to  the  elite  circle  of 
Poganuc. 

Never  in  this  day — generation  of  jaded  and 
sated  literary  appetite — will  any  one  know  the 
fresh  and  eager  joy,  the  vivid  sensation  of  delight 
with  which  a  poem  like  "  The  Lady  of  the  Lake," 
a  novel  like  "  Ivanhoe,"  was  received  in  lonely 
mountain  towns  by  a  people  eager  for  a  new 
mental  excitement.  The  young  folks  called  the 
rocks  and  glens  and  rivers  of  their  romantic 
region  by  names  borrowed  from  Scott ;  they 
clambered  among  the  crags  of  Benvenue  and 
sailed  on  the  bosom  of  Loch  Katrine. 

The  students  in  the  law  offices  and  the  young 
ladies  of  the  first  families  had  their  reading  circles 
and  their  literary  partialities — some  being  parti- 


I32  DOLLY  GOES  INTO   COM  1^ A  NY. 

sans  of  Byron,  some  of  Scott,  etc. — and  there  was 
much  innocent  spouting  of  poetry.  There  were 
promising  youths  who  tied  their  open  shirt 
collars  with  a  black  ribbon,  and  professed  disgust 
at  the  hollow  state  of  human  happiness  in  general, 
and  there  were  compassionate  young  ladies  who 
considered  the  said  young  men  all  the  more  inter 
esting  for  this  state  of  mysterious  desolation,  and 
often  succeeded  in  the  work  of  consoling  them. 
It  must  be  remarked,  however,  that  the  present 
gathering  was  a  married  people's  party,  and  the 
number  of  young  men  and  maidens  was  limited 
to  the  immediate  family  connections.  The  young 
people  had  their  parties,  with  the  same  general 
decorum,  where  the  conversation  was  led  by 
them.  In  the  elderly  circles  all  these  literary 
and  social  topics  came  under  discussion.  Occas 
ionally  Judge  Belcher,  who  was  an  authority 
in  literary  criticism,  would  hold  the  ear  of  the 
drawing-room  while  he  ran  a  parallel  between 
the  dramatic  handling  of  Scott's  characters  as 
compared  with  those  of  Shakespeare,  or  gave 
an  analysis  of  the  principles  of  the  Lake 
School  of  Poetry.  The  Judge  was  an  ad 
mirable  talker,  and  people  in  general  liked 
to  hear  him  quite  as  well  as  he  liked  to  hear 
himself,  and  so  his  monologues  proceeded 
nem.  con. 

On    this    particular    evening,    however,    liter- 


DOLLY   (JOES  INTO   COMPANY.  l^ 

ature  was  forgotten  in  the  eagerness  of  politics. 
The  news  from  the  state  elections  was  not  in 
those  days  spread  by  telegraph,  it  lumbered  up 
in  stages,  and  was  recorded  at  most  in  weekly 
papers;  but  enough  had  come  to  light  to  make 
the  Poganuc  citizens  aware  that  the  State  of 
Connecticut  had  at  last  been  revolutionized,  and 
gone  from  the  Federalists  to  the  Democrats. 

Judge  Belcher  declaimed  upon  the  subject  in 
language  which  made  the  very  hair  rise  upon 
Dolly's  head. 

"Yes,  sir,"  he  said,  addressing  Dn  Gushing;  "I 
consider  this  as  the  ruin  of  the  State  of  Con 
necticut  !  It's  the  triumph  of  the  lower  orders ; 
the  reign  of  *  sans  culotte-ism '  begun.  In  my 
opinion,  sir,  we  are  over  a  volcano  ;  I  should 
not  be  suprised,  sir,  at  an  explosion  that  will 
blow  up  all  our  institutions !  " 

Dolly's  eyes  grew  larger  and  larger,  although 
she  was  a  little  comforted  to  observe  the'  Judge 
carefully  selecting  a  particular  variety  of  cake  that 
he  was  fond  of,  and  helping  himself  to  a  third  cup 
of  tea  in  the  very  midst  of  these  shocking  prog-, 
nostications. 

Dolly  had  not  then  learned  the  ease  and  suavity 
of  mind  with  which  both  then  and  ever  since 
people  at  tea  drinkings  and  other  social  recrea 
tions  declare  their  conviction  that  the  country  is 
going  to  ruin.  It  never  appears  to  have  any  im- 


I34  DOLLY  GOES  INTO   COMPANY, 

mediate  effect  upon  the  appetite.  Dolly  looked 
at  her  father,  and  thought  he  assented  with  some 
what  of  a  saddened  air ;  and  Mrs.  Davenport 
looked  concerned ;  and  Mrs.  Judge  Gridley  said 
it  was  a  very  dark  providence  why  such  things 
were  permitted,  but  a  little  while  after  was  com 
mending  the  delicacy  of  the  cake,  and  saying  she 
must  inquire  of  Venus  about  her  peculiar  mode 
of  confection. 

Judge  Gridley  —  a  white-haired,  lively  old 
gentleman  with  bright  eyes,  who  wore  the  old- 
fashioned  small-clothes,  knee-buckles,  silk  stock 
ings  and  low  shoes — had  fixed  his  eyes  upon 
Dolly  for  some  time,  and  now  crossing  the  room 
drew  her  with  him  into  a  corner,  saying:  "Come, 
now,  Miss  Dolly,  you  and  I  are  old  friends,  you 
know.  What  do  you  think  of  all  these  things?" 

"  Oh,  I'm  so  glad  you  came,"  said  Dolly,  with 
a  long  sigh  of  relief.  "  I  hoped  you  would, 
because  mamma  said  I  mustn't  talk  unless  some 
body  spoke  to  me,  and  I  do  so  want  to  know  all 
about  those  dreadful  things.  What  is  a  volcano? 
Please  tell  me!" 

"  Why,  my  little  Puss,"  he  said,  lifting  her  in 
his  lap  and  twining  her  curls  round  his  finger, 
"what  do  you  want  to  know  that  for?" 

"  Because  I  heard  Judge  Belcher  say  that  we 
were  all  over  a  volcano  and  it  would  blow  us  all 
up  some  day.  Is  it  like  powder?" 


DOLLY  GOES  INTO   COMPANY.  I:55 

"  You  dear  little  soul !  don't  you  trouble  your 
head  about  what  Judge  Belcher  says.  He  uses 
strong  language.  He  only  means  that  the  Demo 
crats  will  govern  the  state." 

"And  are  they  so  dreadfully  wicked?"  asked 
Dolly.  "  I  want  to  tell  you  something" — and 
Dolly  wrhispered,  "'Bessie  Lewis's  father  is  a 
Democrat,  and  yet  they  don't  seem  like  wicked 
people." 

"  No,  my  dear;  when  you  grow  up  you  will 
learn  that  there  are  good  people  in  every  party." 

"  Then  you  don't  think  Bessie's  father  is  a  bad 
man?"  said  Dolly.  "  I'm  so  glad!" 

"  No ;  he's  a  good  man  in  a  bad  party ;  that  is 
what  I  think." 

"  I  wish  you'd  talk  to  him  and  tell  him  not  to 
do  all  these  dreadful  things,  and  upset  the  state," 
said  Dolly.  "  I  thought  the  other  night  /  would  ; 
but  I'm  only  a  little  girl,  you  know;  he  wouldn't 
mind  me.  If  I  was  a  grown-up  woman  I  would," 
she  said,  with  her  cheeks  flushing  and  her  eyes 
kindling. 

Judge  Gridley  laughed  softly  to  himself  and 
stroked  her  head. 

"  When  you  are  a  grown-up  woman  I  don't 
doubt  you  can  make  men  do  almost  anything  you 
please,  but  I  don't  think  it  would  do  any  good 
for  me  to  talk  to  General  Lewis ;  and  now,  little 
Curly-wurly,  don't  bother  your  pretty  head 


136  DOLLY  GOES  INTO   COMPANY. 

about  politics.  Neither  party  will  turn  the  world 
upside  down.  There's  a  good  God  above  us  all, 
my  little  girl,  that  takes  care  of  our  country,  and 
he  will  bring  good  out  of  evil.  So  now  don't 
you  worry." 

"  I'm  afraid,  Judge  Gridley,  that  Dolly  is  troub 
ling  you,"  said  Mrs.  Gushing,  coming  up. 

"  Oh,  dear  me !  madame,  no ;  Miss  Dolly  and 
I  are  old  acquaintances.  We  have  the  best  pos 
sible  understanding." 

But  just  then,  resounding  clear  and  loud 
through  the  windy  March  air,  came  the  pealing 
notes  of  the  nine  o'clock  bell,  and  an  immediate 
rustle  of  dresses,  and  rising,  and  shaking  of 
hands,  and  cutting  short  of  stories,  and  uttering 
last  words  followed. 

For  though  not  exactly  backed  by  the  ar 
bitrary  power  which  enforced  the  celebrated 
curfew,  yet  the  nine  o'clock  bell  was  one  of  the 
authoritative  institutions  of  New  England ;  and 
at  its  sound  all  obediently  set  their  faces  home 
ward,  to  rake  up  house-fires,  put  out  candles, 
and  say  their  prayers  before  going  to  rest. 

Old  Captain  Skeggs,  a  worn-out  revolutionary 
soldier,  no  longer  good  for  hard  service,  had 
this  commanding  post  in  Poganuc,  and  no  mat 
ter  how  high  blew  the  wind,  how  fiercely  raged 
the  storm,  the  captain  in  his  white  woolen  great 
coat,  with  three  little  capes  to  it,  stamped  his 


DOLLY  GOES  INTO   COMPANY.  ,37 

way  through  the  snow,  pulled  valiantly  on  the 
rope,  and  let  all  the  hills  and  valleys  of  Poganuc 
know  that  the  hour  of  rest  had  come.  Then, 
if  it  were  a  young  people's  party,  each  young 
man  chose  out  his  maiden  and  asked  the  pleasure 
of  seeing  her  home ;  and  in  the  clear  frosty  night 
and  under  the  silent  stars  many  a  word  was  said 
that  could  not  be  said  by  candle-light  indoors : — 
whereof  in  time  came  life-long  resultjs. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

COLONEL   DAVENPORT  RELATES    HIS  EXPERIENCES. 

FEW  days  after  the  tea-party,  Colonel 
and  Mrs.  Davenport  came  to  take  tea 
at  the  parsonage.  It  was  an  engage 
ment  of  long  standing,  and  eagerly 
looked  forward  to  by  the  children,  who  with  one 
accord  begged  that  they  might  be  allowed  to 
sit  up  and  hear  the  Colonel's  stories. 

For,  stories  of  the  war  it  was  known  the 
Colonel  could  tell ;  the  fame  of  them  hovered  in 
vague  traditions  on  the  hills  and  valleys  of  Pog- 
anuc,  and  whenever  he  was  to  be  in  the  circle  it 
was  always  in  the  programme  of  hope  that  he 
might  be  stimulated  and  drawn  out  to  tell  of 
some  of  the  stirring  scenes  of  his  camp-life. 

In  a  general  way,  too,  the  children  were  always 
glad  to  have  company.  The  preparations  had  a 
festive  and  joyous  air  to  their  minds.  Mrs.  Cush- 
ing  then  took  possession  of  the  kitchen  in  person, 
and  various  appetizing  and  suggestive  dainties 
and  condiments  stood  about  in  startling  profusion. 
138 


COL  ONEL  DA  VENPOR  T '  S  EXPERIENCE  S.      1 3  9 

Dolly  and  the  boys  stoned  raisins,  pounded  cinna 
mon,  grated  nutmegs  and  beat  eggs  with  enthusi 
asm,  while  Nabby  heated  the  oven  and  performed 
the  part  of  assistant  priestess  in  high  and  solemn 
mysteries.  Among  her  many  virtues  and  graces, 
Mrs.  Gushing  had  one  recommendation  for  a 
country  minister's  wife  which  commanded  uni 
versal  respect :  she  could  make  cake.  Yea,  more, 
she  could  make  suck  cake  as  nobody  else  could 
make — not  even  Colonel  Davenport's  Venus. 

So  the  children  had  stoned  raisins,  without  eat 
ing  more  than  the  natural  tribute  to  be  expected 
in  such  cases ;  they  had  been  allowed  in  per 
quisites  a  stick  of  cinnamon  apiece  ;  and  the 
pound-cake,  the  sponge-cake,  the  fruit-cake  and  the 
tea-rusks  were  each  in  their  kind  a  perfect  success. 

During  tea-time  every  word  uttered  by  the 
Colonel  was  eagerly  watched  by  attentive  and 
much-desiring  ears  ;  but  as  yet  no  story  came. 
The  vivacity  imparted  by  two  or  three  cups  of 
the  best  tea  was  all  spent  in  denunciations  of  the 
Democrats,  their  schemes,  designs  and  dangers  to 
the  country,  when  the  Colonel  and  Dr.  Cushing 
seemed  to  vie  with  each  other  in  the  vigor  and 
intensity  of  their  prognostigations  of  evil. 

But  after  tea  there  came  the  genial  hour  of  the 
social  sit-down  in  front  of  the  andirons,  when  the 
candles  we  e  duly  snuffed,  and  the  big  fore-stick  had 
burned  down  to  glowing  coals,  and  the  shadows 


I40      COLONEL   DAVENPORT'S  EXPERIENCES. 

played  in  uncertain  flashes  up  and  down  the  walls 
of  the  fire-lighted  room ;  and  then  the  Colonel's 
mind  began  traveling  a  road  hopeful  to  his  listen 
ing  auditors. 

From  Democracy  to  Jefferson,  from  Jefferson 
.to  France  and  the  French  Revolution,  the  conver 
sation  led  by  easy  gradations,  and  thence  to  the 
superior  success  of  our  own  Revolution — from 
La  Fayette  to  Washington. 

Now,  the  feeling  of  the  Doctor  and  of  his 
whole  family  for  General  Washington  was  to  the 
full  as  intense  as  that  of  the  ancient  Israelites  for 
Moses.  They  were  never  tired  of  hearing  the 
smallest  particular  about  him — how  he  looked  ; 
how  he  walked;  what  he  wore  ;  the  exact  shade 
of  his  eyes ;  the  least  word  that  ever  dropped 
from  his  lips. 

"  You  have  no  doubt  whatever  that  the  General 
was  a  religious  man?"  said  the  Doctor,  pro 
pounding  what  was  ever  his  most  anxious  inquiry 
with  regard  to  one  who  had  entered  on  the  In 
visible  Verities. 

"  Not  a  doubt,  sir,"  was  the  Colonel's  reply,  in 
those  ringing  and  decisive  tones  which  were 
characteristic  of  him. 

"  I  have  always  heard,"  pursued  the  Doctor, 
"  that  he  was  eminently  a  man  of  prayer." 

"  Eminently  so,"  said  the  Colonel.  "  The  Gen 
eral,  sir,  was  a  communicant  in  the  Episcopal 


COLONEL  DAVENPORT'S  EXPERIENCES.      I4I 

Church,  a  firm  believer  in  Christianity,  and  I 
think  he  was  sustained  in  all  the  trying  emer 
gencies  of  the  war  by  his  faith  in  his  God.  That, 
sir,  I  have  not  a  doubt  of." 

"That  has  always  been  my  belief,"  said  the 
Doctor ;  "  but  I  am  glad  to  hear  you  say  so." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  added  the  Colonel  with  energy ; 
"  his  influence  in  the  army  was  openly  and  de 
cidedly  that  of  a  Christian.  You  recollect  his 
general  order  at  one  time,  excusing  soldiers  and 
sailors  from  fatigue-duty  on  Sunday,  that  they 
might  have  time  to  attend  religious  service,  and 
his  remarks  upon  the  custom  of  profane  swear 
ing  in  the  army  ;  how  he  reminded  both  officers 
and  men  that  '  We  could  have  but  little  hope  of 
the  blessing  of  Heaven  upon  our  arms,  if  we  insult 
it  by  impiety.'  ' 

"  Yes,  I  remember  all  that,"  said  the  Doctor. 
"  Nothing  could  have  been  better  worded.  It 
must  have  had  an  immense  influence.  But  does 
it  not  seem  astonishing  that  a  military  man, 
going  through  the  terrible  scenes  that  he  did, 
should  never  have  been  tempted  to  profanity  ?  I 
declare,"  said  the  Doctor,  musingly,  "  I  would 
not  answer  for  myself.  There  were  times  in  that 
history  when  without  preventing  grace  I  am 
quite  sure  T  could  not  have  held  myself  in." 

"  Well,  sir,  since  you  speak  on  that  subject," 
said  the  Colonel,  "  I  am  free  to  say  that,  on  one 


142 


COLONEL  DAVENPORT'S  EXPERIENCES. 


occasion  I  saw  our  General  carried  beyond  him 
self.  I  have  often  thought  I  would  like  to  tell  you 
the  circumstances,  Doctor." 

There  was  a  little  edging  towards  the  Colonel, 
both  of  the  Doctor  and  Mrs.  Gushing,  as  the 
Colonel,  looking  dreamily  far  into  the  hickory 
coals,  said  : 

"  Yes,  sir ;  that  was  one  of  those  critical  times 
in  our  war,  when  it  turned  on  the  events  of  a  few 
hours  whether  we  had  been  the  nation  we  are 
now,  or  trodden  down  under  the  British  heel ; 
whether  Washington  had  been  made  President 
of  the  United  States,  or  hanged  for  treason.  It 
was  at  the  time  of  the  Long  Island  retreat." 

"And  you  were  there?"  asked  Dr.  Cushing. 
The  Doctor  knew  very  well  that  the  Colonel  was 
there,  and  was  eager  to  draw  him  out. 

"There?  Sir,  indeed  I  was,"  answered  the 
Colonel.  "  I  shall  never  forget  it  to  my  dying  day. 
We  had  been  fighting  all  day  at  terrible  odds,  our 
men  falling  all  around  us  like  leaves,  and  the 
British  pressing  close  upon  us  ;  so  close,  that  when 
it  grew  dark  we  could  hear  every  movement  in 
their  camp,  every  sound  of  pick,  or  shovel,  or  gun. 
Our  men  had  got  behind  their  intrenchments,  and 
there  the  enemy  stopped  pursuing.  What  a  night 
that  was !  We  were  deadly  tired — dispirited  as 
only  fellows  can  be  that  have  seen  their  friends 
shot  down  about  them ;  no  tents,  no  shelter,  and 


COLONEL  DAVENPORT'S  EXPERIENCES.      I43 

the  sentries  of  the  victorious  enemy  only  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  from  our  lines.  Nearly  two 
thousand,  out  of  the  five  thousand  men  we 
had  in  the  fight,  were  killed,  wounded,  or 
missing.  Well,  it  was  a  terribly  anxious  night 
for  Washington ;  for  what  had  we  to  expect, 
next  day?  He  went  round  at  four  o'clock  in 
the  morning  to  see  to  us  and  speak  a  word 
of  cheer  here  and  there.  It  was  a  cold,  driz 
zling,  gloomy,  rainy  morning,  but  we  could 
see  through  the  fog  a  large  encampment;  and 
they  were  intrenching  themselves,  though  the 
rain  drove  them  into  their  tents.  The  day  ad 
vanced,  continuing  rainy  and  stormy,  and  they 
made  no  move  to  attack  us.  Our  scouts,  that 
were  out  watching  the  motions  of  the  enemy 
down  at  Red  Hook,  got  a  peep  at  the  shipping  at 
Staten  Island  and  saw  at  once  that  there  was 
a  movement  and  bustle  there,  as  if  there  were 
something  on  foot ;  and  they  got  the  idea  that  the 
enemy  were  planning  at  turn  of  tide  to  come  up 
behind  us  in  the  East  River,  and  cut  us  off  from 
the  army  in  New  York.  Sir,  that  was  just  what 
they  were  meaning  to  do ;  and,  if  they  had,  we 
should  have  been  caught  there  like  rats  in  a  trap, 
the  war  would  have  been  ended,  and  Washington 
hanged.  The  party  hurried  back  to  tell  the 
General.  A  council  of  war  was  held,  and  it  was 
decided  that  we  all  must  cross  to  New  York  that 


I44      COLONEL  DAVENPORT'S  EXPERIENCES. 

very  night.  There  it  was ;  nine  thousand  men,  with 
all  our  baggage  and  artillery,  to  steal  away  in  the 
night  from  that  great  army,  and  they  so  near  that 
we  could  hear  every  dog  that  barked  or  man  that 
whistled  among  them." 

"How  wide  was  the  place  to  be  crossed?" 
asked  the  Doctor. 

"  Full  three-quarters  of  a  mile,  sir,  and  with  a 
rapid  tide  sweeping  through.  As  the  Lord's 
providence  would  have  it,  Colonel  Glover  had 
just  come  in  that  day  with  his  Marblehead  regi 
ment — thirteen  hundred  fishermen  and  sailors, 
such  as  the  world  cannot  equal." 

"  Glorious !"  exclaimed  the  Doctor.  "  God  bless 
the  Marblehead  boys!" 

"  Yes,  they  saved  us,  under  God  and  the  Gen 
eral  ;  we  never  could  have  crossed  without  them. 

"  Well,  the  General  sent  to  the  Quartermaster 
to  impress  all  the  boats  and  transports  of  every 
kind  that  could  be  got,  and  have  them  ready 
by  evening.  By  eight  o'clock  they  were  all  at 
Brooklyn,  and  under  the  management  of  the 
Marblehead  regiment.  Word  was  given  out  in 
the  army  to  be  prepared  for  a  night  attack,  and 
the  poor  fellows,  tired  as  they  were,  were  all  up 
and  ready  to  move  on  order. 

"Then  Washington  ordered  Gen.  Mifflin's  bri 
gade,  including  what  remained  of  our  regiment, 
to  stay  and  keep  the  intrenchments  with  guards 


COLONEL   DAVENPORT'S  EXPERIENCES.      I45 

and  patrols  and  sentinels  posted,  to  make  the 
enemy  believe  we  were  there,  while  the  rest  all 
moved  down  to  the  water  and  embarked. 

"  Now  I  tell  you,  sir,  it  was  a  good  deal  harder 
to  stand  there  than  to  be  moving  just  then.  We 
were  wide  awake  and  we  counted  the  minutes. 
It  is  always  longer  to  those  who  wait  than  to 
those  who  work.  The  men  were  true  as  steel, 
but,  poor  fellows,  there  is  a  limit  to  human  en 
durance,  and  they  got  pretty  restive  and  nervous. 
So,  between  you  and  me,  did  we  officers  too. 
Standing  still  in  such  a  danger  is  a  thousand 
times  worse  than  fighting. 

"  Finally  the  men  began  to  growl  and  mutter ; 
it  was  all  we  could  do  to  hold  them  ;  they  were 
sure  the  army  had  crossed — word  must  have  been 
sent  to  them!  So,  finally,  when  Washington's 
aid  misunderstood  his  order  and  came  running 
to  say  that  we  were  to  move  down,  we  started  on 
the  double-quick  and  got  to  the  shore.  There 
we  found  that  the  tide  had  turned,  a  strong  north 
east  wind  was  blowing,  the  boats  had  been  brought 
without  oars  enough  to  convey  the  troops,  the 
sail -boats  were  unable  to  make  head  against 
wind  and  tide,  and  full  half  the  army  were  still 
on  Long  Island  shore! 

"Washington  stood  there  amid  the  confusion 
and  perplexity — when,  in  the  midst  of  his  troub 
les,  down  we  all  came. 


I46      COLONEL  DAVENPORT'S  EXPERIENCES. 

"  Sir,  I  never  saw  a  mortal  being  look  as  Gen. 
Washington  looked  at  us.  He  ordered  us  back 
with  a  voice  like  thunder,  and  I  never  heard  such 
a  terrific  volley  of  curses  as  he  poured  out  upon 
us  when  the  men  hesitated.  Sir,  that  man  was 
so  dreadful  that  we  all  turned  and  ran.  We  had 
rather  face  the  judgment-day  than  face  him.  Up 
on  my  soul,  I  thought  when  I  turned  back  that 
I  was  going  straight  into  eternity,  but  I  had 
rather  face  death  than  him." 

"And  he  swore?" 

"  Indeed  he  did — but  it  was  not  profane  swear 
ing;  it  was  not  taking  God's  name  in  vain,  for 
it  sent  us  back  as  if  we  had  been  chased  by 
lightning.  It  was  an  awful  hour,  and  he  saw  it ; 
it  was  life  or  death ;  country  or  no  country." 

"  Sir,"  said  Dr.  Gushing,  starting  up  and  pac 
ing  the  room,  "  it  was  the  oath  of  the  Lord !  It 
would  be  profane  to  call  it  SAvearing." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  the  Colonel,  "  you  remember 
that  one  time  Moses  threw  down  both  tables  of 
the  law  and  broke  them,  and  the  Lord  did  not 
reprove  him." 

"  Exactly,"  answered  the  Doctor  ;  "  he  saw  his 
nation  going  to  ruin  and  forgot  all  else  to  save 
them.  The  Lord  knows  how  to  distinguish." 

"  But,  sir,"  said  the  Colonel,  "  I  never  tell  this 
except  to  the  initiated.  No  man  who  saw  Wash 
ington  then  dared  ever  to  allude  to  it  afterward. 


COLONEL  DAVENPORTS  EXPERIENCES. 


147 


He  was  habitually  so  calm,  so  collected,  so  self- 
contained,  that  this  outburst  was  the  more  ter 
rific.  Whatever  he  felt  about  it  was  settled 
between  him  and  his  Maker.  No  man  ever  took 
account  with  him." 

Then  followed  a  few  moments  of  silence,  when 
Dolly  emerged  from  a  dark  corner — her  cheeks 
very  much  flushed,  her  eyes  very  wide  and 
bright — and,  pressing  up  to  the  Colonel's  knee, 
said  eagerly :  "  But,  oh  please,  sir,  what  became 
of  you  and  the  men?" 

The  Colonel  looked  down  and  smiled  as  he 
lifted  Dolly  on  his  knee.  "  Why,  my  little  girl, 
here  I  am,  you  see ;  I  wasn't  killed  after  all." 

"But  did  you  really  go  clear  back?"  asked 
Dolly. 

"  Yes,  my  dear,  we  all  went  back  and  staid 
two  or  three  hours ;  and  when  it  came  morning 
we  made  believe  to  be  the  whole  army.  We 
made  our  fires  and  we  got  our  breakfasts  and  we 
whistled  and  talked  and  made  all  the  stir  we 
could,  but  as  the  good  Lord  would  have  it  there 
was  such  a  thick  fog  that  you  could  not  see  your 
hand  before  your  face.  You  see  that  while  the 
fog  hung  over  the  island  and  covered  us,  it  was 
all  clear  down  by  the  river." 

"  Why,  that's  just  the  way  it  was  when  they 
crossed  the  Red  Sea,"  said  Dolly,  eagerly; 
"wasn't  it,  Papa?" 


I48      COLONEL  DAVENPORT'S  EXPERIENCES. 

"  Something  so,  my  dear,"  said  her  father; 
but  her  mother  made  her  a  sign  not  to  talk. 

"  How  long  did  it  take  to  do  the  whole  thing?" 

"  Well,  thanks  to  those  Marblehead  boys,  by 
daybreak  the  greater  part  of  the  army  were  safe 
on  the  New  York  side.  A  little  after  daylight 
we  marched  off  quietly  and  went  down  to  the 
ferry.  Washington  was  still  there,  and  we 
begged  him  to  go  in  the  first  boat;  but  no,  he 
was  immovable.  He  saw  us  all  off,  and  went 
himself  in  the  very  last  boat,  after  every  man 
was  in." 

"  What  a  glorious  fellow !"  said  the  Doctor. 

"Please,  sir,"  said  Will,  who,  with  distended 
eyes,  had  been  listening,  "  what  did  the  British 
say  when  they  found  out?" 

The  Colonel  laid  his  head  back  and  gave  a 
hearty  laugh. 

"  They  had  a  message  sent  them,  by  a  Tory 
woman  down  by  the  ferry,  what  was  going  on. 
She  sent  her  black  servant,  and  he  got  through 
our  American  lines  but  was  stopped  by  the  Hes 
sians,  who  could  not  understand  his  gibberish, 
and  so  kept  him  till  long  after  all  was  over. 
Then  a  British  officer  overhauled  him  and  was 
pretty  well  amazed  at  his  story.  He  gave  the 
alarm,  and  General  Howe's  aid-de-camp,  with  a 
body  of  men,  climbed  over  the  intrenchments 
and  found  all  deserted.  They  hurried  down  to 


COLONEL   DAVENPORT'S  EXPERIENCES.      I49 

the  landing  just  in  time  to  see  the  rear  boats 
half  way  across  the  river." 

"  Well,  that  is  almost  like  the  crossing  of  the 
Red  Sea,"  said  the  Doctor. 

"  Oh,  weren't  the  British  furious !"  cried  Bill. 

"  Yes,  they  did  fire  away  at  the  boats,  and  one 
straggling  boat  they  hit  and  forced  the  men  to 
return;  but  it  turned  out  only  three  vagabonds 
that  had  come  to  plunder." 

It  was  after  the  nine  o'clock  bell  had  dismissed 
the  Colonel  and  his  lady  that  the  Doctor  noticed 
the  wide  and  radiant  eyes  of  little  Dolly  and 
his  boys. 

"  My  children,"  he  said,  "  to  use  the  name  of 
the  great  God  solemnly  and  earnestly  for  a  great 
and  noble  purpose  is  not  to  'swear.'  Swearing 
is  taking  God's  holy  name  in  vain,  in  a  trifling 
way,  for  a  trivial  purpose — a  thing  which  our 
great  and  good  general  never  did.  But  this 
story  I  would  rather  you  would  never  repeat. 
It  might  not  be  understood." 

"  Certainly,"  said  Bill,  with  proud  gravity ; 
"  common  boys  wouldn't  understand — and,  Dolly, 
don't  you  tell." 

"  Of  course  I  shouldn't,"  said  Dolly.  "  I  never 
shall  tell  even  Nabby,  nor  Bessie,  nor  anybody." 

And  afterwards,  in  the  family  circle,  when 
General  Washington  was  spoken  of,  the  children 
looked  on  one  another  with  grave  importance, 
as  the  trusted  depositaries  of  a  state  secret. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  PUZZLE   OF  POGANUC. 

|OTWITHSTANDING  the  apparition 
of  the  blue-bird  and  the  sanguine  hopes 
of  the  boys,  the  winter  yet  refused  to 
quit  the  field.  Where  these  early  blue 
birds  go  to,  that  come  to  cheer  desponding  hearts 
in  arctic  regions  like  Poganuc,  is  more  than  one 
can  say.  Birds'  wings  are  wonderful  little  affairs, 
and  may  carry  them  many  hundred  southward 
miles  in  a  day.  Dolly,  however,  had  her  own 
theory  about  it,  and  that  was  that  the  bird  went 
right  up  into  heaven,  and  there  waited  till  all  the 
snow-storms  were  over. 

Certain  it  was  that  the  Poganuc  people,  after 
two  promising  days  of  thaw,  did  not  fall  short  of 
that  "six  weeks'  sledding  in  March"  which  has 
come  to  be  proverbial. 

The  thaw,  which  had  dripped  from  icicles  and 
melted  from  snow-banks,  froze  stiffer  than  ever, 
and  then  there  came  a  two  days'  snow-storm- 
good,  big,  honest  snow-feathers,  that  fell  and  fell 
all  day  and  all  night,  till  all  the  houses  wore  great 


THE  PUZZLE   OF  POGANUC.  ^ 

white  night-caps,  the  paths  in  front  of  all  the 
house-doors  had  to  be  shoveled  out  again,  and 
the  farmers  with  their  sleds  turned  out  to  break 
roads. 

The  Doctor  was  planning  a  tour  in  his  sleigh  to 
fulfill  his  monthly  round  of  visiting  the  schools. 

Schools  there  always  were  in  every  district, 
from  the  time  the  first  log  school-house  had 
been  erected  in  the  forests,  down  to  the  days 
when,  as  now,  the  school-house  is  a  comfortable, 
well-furnished  building. 

In  the  Doctor's  day  the  common  schoolhouses 
were  little,  mean  shanties,  built  in  the  cheapest 
possible  manner,  consisting  of  one  small  room  and 
a  vestibule  for  hanging  bonnets,  hats,  and  dinner 
baskets.  In  winter,  a  box-stove,  the  pipe  of 
which  passed  through  one  of  the  windows,  gave 
warmth.  Blackboards  were  unknown.  The 
teacher's  care  was  simply  to  hear  reading  in  the 
Bible  and  the  " Columbian  Orator;"  to  set  copies 
in  ruled  copy-books ;  to  set  "sums"  from  "  Daboll's 
Arithmetic;"  to  teach  parsing  from  "  Murray's 
Grammar;"  to  mend  pens,  and  to  ferule  and 
thrash  disorderly  scholars.  In  the  summer 
months,  when  the  big  boys  worked  in  the  fields, 
a  woman  generally  held  sway,  and  taught  knit 
ting  and  sewing  to  the  girls.  On  Saturday  all 
recited  the  "Assembly's  Catechism,"  and  once  a 
month  the  minister,  and  sometimes  his  wife,  came 


152 


THE  PUZZLE   OF  POGANUC. 


in  to  hear  and  commend  the  progress  of  the 
scholars. 

One  of  the  troubles  of  a  minister  in  those  times 
was  so  to  hold  the  balance  as  to  keep  down  neigh 
borhood  quarrels; — not  an  easy  matter  among  a 
race  strong,  opinionated,  and  who,  having  little 
variety  in  life,  rather  liked  the  stimulus  of  dis 
agreements.  A  good  quarrel  was  a  sort  of  moral 
whetstone,  always  on  hand  for  the  sharpening  of 
their  wits. 

Such  a  quarrel  had  stood  for  some  two  or  three 
years  past  in  regard  to  the  position  of  the  North 
Poganuc  schoolhouse.  It  had  unfortunately  been 
first  located  on  a  high,  slippery,  windy  hill,  very 
uncomfortable  of  access  in  the  winter  months, 
and  equally  hot  and  cheerless  in  summer.  Sub 
sequently,  the  building  of  several  new  farm 
houses  had  carried  most  of  the  children  a  con 
siderable  distance  away,  and  occasioned  increased 
sense  of  inconvenience. 

The  thing  had  been  talked  of  and  discussed  in 
several  successive  town-meetings,  but  no  vote 
could  be  got  to  change  the  position  of  the  school- 
house.  Zeph  Higgins  was  one  of  the  most  de 
cided  in  stating  what  ought  to  be  done  and  where 
the  school-house  ought  to  stand ;  but,  unfor 
tunately,  Zeph's  mode  of  arguing  a  question 
was  such  as  to  rouse  all  the  existing  combative- 
ness  in  those  whom  he  sought  to  convince.  No 


THE  PUZZLE   OF  POGANUC.  !53 

more  likely  mode  to  ruin  a  motion  in  town- 
meeting-  than  to  get  Zeph  interested  to  push  it. 
In  Poganuc,  as  elsewhere,  there  were  those  in 
town-meeting  that  voted  on  the  principle  stated 
by  the  immortal  Bird  o'  Freedom  Sawin: 

"  I  take  the  side  that  isn't  took 
By  them  consarned  teetotalers." 

In  the  same  manner,  Zeph's  neighbors  were  for 
the  most  part  inclined  in  town  meeting,  irre 
spective  of  any  other  consideration,  to  take  the 
side  he  didn't  take. 

Hiel  Jones  had  often  been  heard  to  express 
the  opinion  that,  "  Ef  Zeph  Higgins  would  jest 
shet  up  his  gash  in  town-meetin',  that  air 
school-house  could  be  moved  fast  enough ;  but 
the  minit  that  Dr.  Gushing  had  been  round,  and 
got  folks  kind  o'  slicked  down  and  peaceable, 
Zeph  would  git  up  and  stroke  'em  all  back'ards 
and  git  their  dander  up  agin.  Folks  warn't 
a-goin*  to  be  druv  ;  and  Zeph  was  allers  fer 
drivin'." 

The  subject  of  an  approaching  town-meeting 
was  beginning  to  loom  dimly  in  the  discussions 
of  the  village.  One  characteristic  of  the  Yankee 
mind,  as  developed  in  those  days,  was  the  slow 
ness  and  deliberation  with  which  it  arrived  at 
any  purpose  or  conclusion.  This  was  not  merely 
in  general  movements,  but  in  particular  ones 
also.  Did  the  Widow  Brown  contemplate  turn- 


!54  THE  PUZZLE   OF  POGANUC. 

ing  her  back  buttery  into  a  sink-room,  she 
forthwith  went  over  to  the  nearest  matrons  of 
her  vicinity,  and  announced  that  she  was  "talkin' 
about  movin'  her  sink,"  and  the  movement  in 
all  its  branches  and  bearings  was  discussed  in 
private  session.  That  was  step  No.  i.  Then  all 
the  women  at  the  next  quilting,  or  tea-drinking, 
heard  that  Widow  Brown  was  "  talking  about 
changing  her  sink,"  and  they  talked  about  it. 
Then  Seth  Chickering,  the  neighborhood  carpen 
ter,  was  called  into  consultation,  and  came  and 
investigated  the  premises,  and  reported — first  to 
the  widow  and  second  to  his  wife,  who  told  all 
the  other  women  what  "  Seth,  he  said,"  etc. 
The  talking  process  continued  indefinitely,  unless 
some  active  Providential  dispensation  brought  it 
to  an  end. 

The  same  process  was  repeated  when  Mrs. 
Slocum  thought  of  investing  in  a  new  winter 
cloak;  the  idea  in  those  days  prevailing  that  a 
winter  cloak  was  a  thing  never  but  once  in  a  life 
time  to  be  bought,  and  after  that  to  endure  for  all 
generations,  the  important  article  must  not  be 
bought  lightly  or  unadvisedly.  When  Deacon 
Dickenson  proposed  to  build  a  new  back  parlor 
on  his  house  and  to  re-shingle  the  roof,  the  talking 
and  discussion  lasted  six  months,  and  threw  the 
whole  neighborhood  into  commotion ;  carpenters 
came  before  daybreak  and  roosted  on  the  fences, 


THE  PUZZLE  OF  POGANUC.  155 

and  at  odd  times  as  they  found  leisure,  at  all  hours 
of  the  day,  gathered  together,  and  Seth  Chicker- 
ing  took  the  opinions  of  Sam  Parmelee  and  Jake 
Peters ;  and  all  Mrs.  Dickenson's  female  friends 
talked  about  it,  till  every  shingle,  ?very  shingle- 
nail  and  every  drop  of  paint  had  received  a 
separate  consideration,  and  the  bargain  was,  so  to 
speak,  whittled  down  to  the  finest  possible  point. 

Imagine  the  delicacies  of  discussion,  then,  that 
attended  the  moving  of  a  schoolhouse  at  the 
public  expense — a  schoolhouse  in  which  every 
body  in  the  neighborhood  had  a  private  and 
personal  claim — and  how  like  the  proceedings  of  a 
bull  in  a  china  shop  was  the  advocacy  of  a  champ 
ion  like  Zeph  Higgins,  and  one  may  see  how  in 
finitely  extended  in  this  case  might  be  the  area  of 
"  talkin'  about  movin'  that  air  schoolhouse,"  and 
how  hopelessly  distant  any  decision.  The  thing 
had  already  risen  on  the  horizon  of  Deacon  Dick 
enson's  store,  like  one  of  those  puzzling  stars  or 
fractiously  disposed  heavenly  bodies  that  seem 
created  to  furnish  astronomers  with  something  to 
talk  about. 

The  fateful  period  was  again  coming  round ; 
the  spring  town-meeting  was  at  hand,  and  more 
than  one  had  been  heard  to  say  that  "  Ef  that  air 
schoolhouse  hed  to  be  moved,  it  oughter  be  done 
while  the  sleddin'  was  good." 

In   Deacon   Dickenson's  store  a  knot  of    the 


iS6 


THE  PUZZLE   OF  POGANUC. 


talkers  were  gathered  around  the  stove,  having 
a  final  talk  and  warm-up  previous  to  starting 
their  sleds  homeward  to  their  supper  of  pork- 
and-beans  and  doughnuts. 

Our  mournful  friend,  Deacon  Peasley,  sat  in  his 
usual  drooping  attitude  on  a  mackerel-keg  placed 
conveniently  by  the  stove ;  and  then,  like  Beattie's 
hermit, 

"...     his  plaining  begun. 
Tho'  mournful  his  spirit,  his  soul  was  resigned." 

"  I'm  sure  I  hope  I  don't  wanter  dictate  to  the 
Lord,  nor  nothin,  but  ef  he  should  send  a  turn  o' 
rheumatism  on  Zeph  Higgins,  jest  afore  town- 
meetin'  day — why,  seems  to  me  'twould  be  a 
marcy  to  us  all." 

"  I  don't  see,  fer  my  part,"  said  Tim  Hawkins, 
"  why  folks  need  to  mind  what  he  says  ;  but  they 
do.  He'll  do  more  agin  a  motion  talkin'  fer  it, 
than  I  can  do  talkin'  agin  it  fer  a  year.  I  never 
see  the  beat  of  him — never." 

"  Aint  there  nobody,"  said  Deacon  Peasley, 
caressing  his  knee,  and  looking  fondly  at  the  stove 
door,  "  that  could  kind  o'  go  to  him,  and  sort  o' 
set  it  in  order  afore  him  how  he  henders  the  very 
thing  he's  sot  on  doin'  ?" 

"  Guess  you  don't  know  him  as  I  do,"  said 
Deacon  Dickenson,  "or  you  wouldn't  'a*  thought 
o'  that." 

"And  now  he's  gone  in  with  the  Democrats, 


THE  PUZZLE   OF  POGANUC.  !57 

and  agin  Parson  Gushing  and  the  church,  it  '11  be 
worse  'n  ever,"  remarked  Tim  Hawkins. 

"  Now,  there's  Mis'  Higgins,"  said  the  Deacon; 
"  she  can't  do  nothin'  with  him ;  he  won't  take 
a  word  from  her ;  she  hez  to  step  round  softly 
arter  him,  a-settin*  things  right.  Why,  Widder 
Brown,  that  lives  up  by  the  huckleberry  pastur'- 
lot,  was  a-tellin'  my  wife,  last  Sunday,  how  Zeph's 
turkeys  would  come  a-trampin'  in  her  mowin', 
and  all  she  could  say  and  do  he  wouldn't  keep 
'em  to  hum.  And  then  when  they  stole  a  nest 
there,  Zeph  he  took  the  eggs  and  carried  'em  off, 
'cause  he  said  the  turkeys  wras_  hisn.  Mis'  Higgins, 
she  jest  put  on  her  bonnet,  and  went  right  over, 
that  arternoon,  and  took  the  turkey  eggs  back  to 
the  widder.  Mis'  Brown  said  Mis'  Higgins  didn't 
say  a  word,  but  she  looked  consid'able — her  eyes 
was  a-shinin'  and  her  mouth  sort  o'  set,  as  ef  she'd 
about  come  to  the  eend  of  her  patience." 

"  Wai,"  said  Deacon  Peasley,  "  I  rather  \vonder 
she  durst  to  do  it." 

"  Wai,"  said  Tim,  "  my  wife  sez  that  there  is 
places  where  Mis'  Higgins  jest  takes  her  stand, 
and  Zeph  has  to  give  in.  Ef  she  gets  her  back 
agin  a  text  in  the  Bible,  why,  she  won't  stir  from 
it  ef  he  killed  her ;  and  when  it  comes  to  that 
Zeph  hez  to  cave  in.  Come  to  standin' — why 
she  kin  stand  longer  'n  he  kin.  I  rather  'xpect  he 
didn't  try  to  git  back  them  turkey  eggs.  Ef  he 


I58  THE  PUZZLE  OF  POGANUC. 

did,  Mis'  Higgins  would  'a'  stood  right  in  the 
road,  and  he'd  'a'  hed  to  'a'  walked  over  her.  I 
'xpect  by  this  time  Zeph  knows  what  he  kin 
make  her  do  and  what  he  can't." 

"  Wai,"  said  Kiel  Jones,  who  had  just  dropped 
in,  "  I  tell  ye  Zeph's  screwed  himself  into  a 
tight  place  now.  That  air  'Piscopal  parson,  he's 
gret  on  orderin'  and  commandin',  and  thinks  he 
didn't  come  right  down  from  the  Tostles  for 
nothin'.  He  puts  his  new  folks  through  the  drills 
lively,  I  tell  ye ;  he's  ben  at  old  Zeph  'cause  he 
don't  bow  to  suit  him  in  the  creed — Zeph's  back 
is  stiff  as  a  ramrod,  and  he  jest  hates  it.  Now, 
there's  Mis'  Higgins;  shell  allers  do  any  thing 
to  'blige  anybody,  and  if  the  minister  wants  her 
to  make  a  curtsey,  why  she  does  it  the  best 
she's  able,  and  Nabby  and  the  boys,  they  take 
to  it ;  but  it  gravels  Zeph.  Then  all  this  'ere 
gittin'  up  and  sittin'  down  aggravates  him,  and 
he  comes  out  o'  church  as  cross  as  a  bull  in 
fly-time." 

Of  course,  the  laugh  was  ready  at  this  picture 
of  their  neighbor's  troubles,  and  Hiram  added : 

"  He'll  put  it  through,  though ;  he  won't  go 
back  on  his  tracks,  but  it's  pikery  and  worm 
wood  to  him,  I  tell  ye.  I  saw  him  t'other  day, 
after  Parson  had  been  speaking  to  him,  come 
out  o'  church,  and  give  his  hoss  such  a  twitch, 
and  say  'Darn  ye!'  in  a  way  I  knew  wa'n't 


THE  PUZZLE   OF  POGANUC. 


159 


meant  for  the  critter.  Zeph  don't  swear,"  added 
Hiel,  "  but  I  will  say  he  can  make  darn  sound 
the  most  like  damn  of  any  man  in  Poganuc.  He's 
got  lots  o'  swear  in  him,  that  ole  feller  hez." 

"My  mother  says  she  remembers  when  Polly 
Higgins  (that  is)  was  the  prettiest  gal  in  all  the 
deestrict,"  said  Deacon  Peasley.  "  She  was  Polly 
Adams,  from  Danbury.  She  came  to  keep  the 
deestrict  school,  and  Zeph  he  sot  his  eyes  on  her, 
and  hev  her  he  would ;  he  wouldn't  take  '  No '  for 
an  answer ;  he  didn't  give  her  no  peace  till  he  got 
her." 

"  Any  feller  can  get  a  gal  that  way,"  said  Hiel, 
with  a  judicial  air.  "A  gal  allers  says  'No'  at 
fust — to  get  time  to  think  on't." 

"Is  that  the  way  with  Nabby?"  asked  the 
Deacon,  with  a  wink  of  superior  intelligence. 
Whereat  there  came  a  general  laugh,  and  Hiel 
pulled  up  his  coat  collar,  and,  looking  as  if  he 
might  say  something  if  delicacy  did  not  forbid, 
suddenly  remembered  that  "  Mother  had  sent  him 
for  a  quarter  of  a  pound  o'  young  Hyson." 

Definite  business  at  once  broke  up  the  session, 
and  every  man,  looking  out  his  parcels,  mounted 
his  sled  and  wended  his  way  home. 


CHAPTER    XV. 

THE   POGANUC   PUZZLE   SOLVED. 

]EPH  Higgins  had  the  spirit  of  a  gen 
eral.     He,   too,    had   his   vision   of    an 
approaching    town-meeting,    and    that 
evening,   sitting    in   his    family    circle, 
gave  out  his  dictum  on  the  subject: 

"Wai — they'll  hev  a  town-meetin'  afore  long, 
and  hev  up  that  air  old  school'us'  bizness,"  he 
said,  as  he  sat  facing  the  blaze  of  the  grand 
kitchen  fire. 

Mrs.  Higgins  sat  by  in  her  little  splint- 
bottomed  rocking-chair,  peacefully  clicking  her 
knitting-needles.  Abner  sat  at  her  right  hand, 
poring  over  a  volume  of  "  Rollin's  Ancient  His 
tory."  Abel  and  Jeduthun  were  playing  fox-and- 
goose  with  grains  of  corn  in  the  corner,  and  Tim 
was  whittling  a  goose-poke. 

All  looked  up  at  the  announcement  of  this 
much-bruited  subject. 

"  They  never  seem  to  come  to  anything  on  that 
subject,"  said  Mrs.  Higgins.  "  I  wish  the  school- 
house  was  better  situated  ;  a  great  many  are  kept 
from  the  prayer  meetings  there  that  would  come 
if  it  wasn't  for  that  windy,  slippery  hill.  The 

1<50 


THE  POGANUC  PUZZLE   SOLVED.  T6r 

last  time  I  went,  it  was  all  I  could  do  to  get  up," 
she  said  ;  "  and  I  thought  I  caught  a  cold." 

"  There's  not  the  least  doubt  on't,"  said  Zeph, 
"  and  the  children  are  allers  catchin'  colds. 
Everybody  knows  where  that  air  school'us' 
ought  to  be.  Confounded  fools  they  be,  the  hull 
lot  on  'em  ;  and,  for  my  part,  I'm  tired  o'  this  'ere 
quarrelin'  and  jawin',  and  I  ain't  a-goin'  to  stan' 
it  no  longer.  It's  a  shame  and  it's  a  sin  to  keep 
up  these  'ere  quarrels  among  neighbors,  and  I'm 
a-goin'  to  put  a  stop  to  it." 

It  may  be  imagined  that  this  exordium  caused 
a  sensation  in  the  family  circle. 

Mrs.  Higgins  opened  her  meek  blue  eyes  upon 
her  husband  with  a  surprised  expression ;  the 
two  boys  sat  with  their  game  suspended  and  their 
mouths  open,  and  the  goose-poke  and  "  Rollin's 
History  "  were  alike  abandoned  in  the  pause  of 
astonishment. 

" To-morrow's  Saturday,"  said  Zeph;  "and  Sat 
urday  afternoon  there  won't  be  no  school,  and  I'll 
jest  take  the  boys,  both  yoke  of  oxen  and  the 
sleds,  and  go  up  and  move  that  air  school'us' 
down  to  the  place  where't  orter  be.  I'll  wedge  it 
up  and  settle  it  good  and  firm,  and  that'll  be  the 
end  on't.  Tain't  no  sort  o'  use  to  talk.  I'm  jest 
a-goin'  to  do  it." 

Zeph  looked  as  if  he  meant  it,  and  his  family 
had  ceased  to  think  anything  impossible  that  he 


!62  THE  POGANUC  PUZZLE   SOLVED. 

took  in  hand  to  do.  If  he  had  announced  his  in 
tention  of  blowing  up  the  neighboring  crag  of 
Bluff  Head,  and  building  a  castle  out  of  the  frag 
ments,  they  would  have  expected  to  see  it  done. 

So  Zeph  took  the  family  Bible,  and,  in  a  high- 
pitched  and  determined  voice,  read  the  account  of 
Samson  carrying  off  the  gates  of  Gaza,  repeated 
his  evening  prayer,  ordered  all  hands  to  bed, 
raked  up  the  fire,  had  all  snug  and  quiet,  and 
stepped  into  bed  just  as  the  last  stroke  of  the  nine 
o'clock  bell  was  resounding. 

At  four  o'clock  the  next  afternoon,  as  Hiel  Jones 
was  coming  in  on  his  high  seat  on  the  Poganuc 
stage,  whistling  cheerily,  a  sudden  new  sensation 
struck  him.  Passing  over  North  Poganuc  hill, 
he  bethought  him  of  the  schoolhouse  question, 
and  lifted  up  his  eyes,  and  lo !  no  schoolhouse 
was  there.  For  a  moment  Hiel  felt  giddy.  What 
was  the  matter  with  his  head?  He  rubbed  his 
eyes,  and  looked  on  all  the  other  familiar  objects ; 
there  was  the  old  pine  tree,  there  the  great  rock, 
but  the  schoolhouse  was  gone.  The  place  where 
it  had  stood  was  disturbed  by  tramping  of 
many  feet,  and  a  broad,  smooth  trail  led  down  the 
hill. 

"  Wai,  somebody  hez  gone  and  ben  and  done 
it,"  said  Hiel,  as  he  whipped  up  his  horses  to 
carry  the  news. 

Farther  on,  in  a  convenient  spot  at  the  junction 


THE  POGANUC  PUZZLE   SOLVED.  ^3 

of  three  roads,  under  the  shelter  of  a  hill,  stood 
the  schoolhouse — serene  as  if  it  had  grown  there ; 
while  Zeph  Higgins  and  his  son  Abner  were  just 
coming  forward  on  the  road  toward  Hiel,  Zeph 
triumphantly  whipping  his  oxen  and  shouting  the 
word  of  command  in  an  elevated  voice. 

Hiel  drew  to  one  side,  and  gave  a  long  whistle. 
"  Je-r#-salem,"  he  exclaimed,  *'  ef  you  hain't  ben 
and  done  it ! " 

Zeph  lifted  his  head  with  an  air  of  as  much 
satisfaction  as  his  hard  features  could  assume,  and, 
nodding  his  head  in  the  direction  of  the  school- 
house,  said : 

"Yis— there  'tis!" 

Hiel  laid  his  head  back,  and  burst  into  a  loud, 
prolonged  laugh,  in  which  he  was  joined  by 
Abner  and  the  boys. 

"  Don't  see  nothin'  to  laugh  at,"  said  Zeph, 
with  grim  satisfaction.  "  Fact  is,  I  can  t  hev 
these  'ere  quarrels — and  I  won't  hev  'em.  That 
air's  the  place  for  that  school'us',  and  it's  got  to 
stand  there,  and  that's  the  eend  on't.  Come,  boys, 
hurry  home;  mother's  beans  will  be  a-gettin  cold. 
Gee — g'lang ! "  and  the  black  whip  cracked  over 
the  back  of  the  ox-team. 

Hiel  was  a  made  man.  He  had  in  possession 
an  astounding  piece  of  intelligence,  that  nobody 
knew  but  himself,  and  he  meant  to  make  the 
most  of  it. 


!64  THE  POGANUC  PUZZLE   SOLVED. 

He  hurried  first  to  Deacon  Peasley's  store, 
where  quite  a  number  were  sitting  round  the 
stove  with  their  Saturday  night  purchases.  In 
burst  Kiel : 

"  Wai,  that  air  North  Poganuc  school'us'  is 
moved,  and  settled  down  under  the  hills  by  the 
cross-road." 

The  circle  looked  for  a  moment  perfectly 
astounded  and  stupefied. 

"  You  don't  say  so!" 

"Dew  tell!" 

"  Don't  believe  ye." 

"  Wai,  ye  kin  all  go  and  see.  I  came  by,  jest 
half  an  hour  ago,  and  see  it  with  my  own  eyes, 
and  Zeph  Higgins  and  his  boys  a-drivin'  off  with 
their  sleds  and  oxen.  I  tell  ye  that  air  thing 
is  jest  done.  I'm  a-goin'  to  tell  Dr.  Cushing's 
folks." 

Poganuc  People  had  something  to  talk  about 
now,  in  good  earnest. 

Hiel  stopped  his  stage  at  the  parson's  door,  and 
Dr.,  Gushing,  expecting  some  bundle  from  Boston, 
came  out  to  the  gate. 

"  Doctor,  thought  I'd  jest  stop  and  tell  ye  that 
the  North  Poganuc  school'us'  hez  ben  moved 
to  the  cross-roads,  down  under  .the  hill — thought 
ye'd  like  to  hear  it." 

The  Doctor's  exclamation  and  uplifted  hands 
brought  to  the  door  Mrs.  Gushing  and  Dolly  and 


THE  POGANUC  PUZZLE   SOLVED.  ^5 

the  two  boys,  with  Nabby.  Hiel  was  in  his 
glory,  and  recounted  all  the  circumstances  with 
great  prolixity,  the  Doctor  and  Mrs.  Gushing 
and  all  his  audience  laughing  at  his  vigorous 
narrative. 

"  Yis,"  said  Hiel,  "  he  said  he  wa'n't  a-goin'  to 
hev  no  more  quarrelin'  about  it ;  everybody 
knew  the  school'us'  ought  to  be  there,  and  there 
'twas.  It  was  all  wedged  up  tight  and  stiddy, 
and  the  stove  in  it,  and  the  pipe  stickin'  out  o' 
the  winder,  all  nateral  as  could  be,  and  he  jest 
goin'  off  home,  as  ef  nothin'  hed  happened." 

"  Well,  if  that  ain't  jest  like  father!"  exclaimed 
Nabby,  with  an  air  of  pride.  "  If  he  wants  a 
thing  done  he  will  do  it." 

"  Certainly  this  time  he  has  done  a  good  thing," 
said  the  Doctor  ;  "  and  for  my  part  I'm  obliged  to 
him.  I  suppose  the  spirit  of  the  Lord  came  on 
him,  as  it  did  on  Samson." 

And  for  weeks  and  months  thereafter,  there 
was  abundance  of  talking  and  every  variety  of 
opinion  expressed  as  to  the  propriety  of  Zeph's 
coup  cTttat,  but  nobody,  man,  woman,  or  child, 
ever  proposed  to  move  the  schoolhouse  back 
again. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE   POGANUC  PARSONAGE. 

IHE  parsonage  was  a  wide,  roomy,  windy 
edifice  that  seemed  to  have  been  built 
by  a  succession  of  after-thoughts.  It 
was  at  first  a  model  New  England 
house,  built  around  a  great  brick  chimney,  which 
ran  up  like  a  light-house  in  the  center  of  the 
square  roof.  Then  came,  in  course  of  time,  a 
side-wing  which  had  another  chimney  and  an 
other  suite  of  rooms.  A  kitchen  grew  out  on 
another  side,  and  out  of  *  the  kitchen  a  sink- 
room,  and  out  of  the  sink-room  a  wood-house, 
and  out  of  the  wood-house  a  carriage-house,  and 
so  on  with  a  gradually  lessening  succession  of 
out-buildings. 

New  England  houses  have  been  said  by  a 
shrewd  observer  to  be  constructed  on  the  model 
of  a  telescope;  compartment  after  compartment, 
lessening  in  size,  and  all  under  one  cover. 

But  in  the  climate  where  the  business  of  one 
half  of  the  year  is  to  provide  fuel  for  the  other 
half,  such  a  style  of  domestic  architecture  be 
comes  convenient.  During  the  long  winter 

166 


THE  POGANUC  PARSONAGE.  ^7 

months  everything  was  under  cover,  giving  grand 
scope  for  the  children  to  play. 

When  the  boys  were  graciously  disposed  to 
Dolly,  she  had  a  deal  of  good  fun  with  them  in 
the  long  range  of  the  divers  sheds.  They  made 
themselves  houses,  castles  and  fortresses  in  the 
wood-pile,  and  played  at  giving  parties  and 
entertainments,  at  which  Spring  and  the  cat  also 
assisted  in  silent  and  subsidiary  parts. 

Sometimes  they  held  town-meetings  or  voting- 
days,  in  which  the  Democrats  got  their  dues 
in  speeches  that  might  have  struck  terror  to 
their  souls  had  they  heard  them.  At  other  times 
they  held  religious  meetings,  and  sung  hymns 
and  preached,  on  which  occasions  Dolly  had  been 
known  to  fall  to  exhorting  with  a  degree  of 
fervor  and  a  fluency  in  reciting  texts  of  Script 
ure  which  for  the  time  produced  quite  an  effect 
on  her  auditors,  and  led  Nabby,  who  listened 
behind  the  door,  to  say  to  Mrs.  Gushing  that 
'  that  air  child  was  smarter  than  was  good  for 
her;  that  she'd  either  die  young  or  else  come 
to  suthin'  one  of  these  days' — a  proposition  as 
to  which  there  could  not  rationally  be  any  dif 
ference  of  opinion. 

The  parsonage  had  also  the  advantage  of  three 
garrets — splendid  ground  for  little  people.  There 
was  first  the  garret  over  the  kitchen,  the  floors 
of  which  in  the  fall  were  covered  with  stores  of 


168  THE  POGANUC  PARSONAGE. 

yellow  pumpkins,  fragrant  heaps  of  quinces,  and 
less  fragrant  spread  of  onions.  There  were  bins 
of  shelled  corn  and  of  oats,  and,  as  in  every  other 
garret  in  the  house,  there  were  also  barrels  of  old 
sermons  and  old  family  papers.  But  most  stimu 
lating  to  the  imagination  of  all  the  features  of 
this  place  was  the  smoke-house,  which  was  a 
wide,  deep  chasm  made  in  the  kitchen  chimney, 
where  the  Parson's  hams  and  dried  beef  were 
cured.  Its  door,  which  opened  into  this  garret, 
glistened  with  condensed  creosote,  a  rumbling 
sound  was  heard  there,  and  loud  crackling  rever 
berated  within.  Sometimes  Dolly  would  open 
the  door  and  peer  in  fearfully  as  long  as  her 
eyes  could  bear  the  smoke,  and  think  with  a 
shudder  of  a  certain  passage  in  John  Bunyan, 
which  reads : 

"Then  I  saw  in  my  dream  that  the  shepherds 
had  them  to  another  place,  in  a  bottom,  where 
was  a  door  in  the  side  of  a  hill ;  and  they  opened 
the  door  and  bid  them  look  in.  They  looked  in, 
therefore,  and  saw  that  within  it  was  dark  and 
smoky ;  they  also  thought  that  they  heard  a  rum 
bling  noise  as  of  fire  and  a  cry  of  some  torment 
ed,  and  that  they  smelt  the  scent  of  brimstone. 
Then  said  Christian,  What  means  this?  The 
shepherds  told  them,  This  is  a  by-way  to  Hell, 
a  way  that  hypocrites  go  in  at,  namely,  such  as 
sell  their  birthright  with  Esau ;  such  as  sell  their 


THE  POGANUC  PARSONAGE.  ^ 

Master  with  Judas ;  such  as  lie  and  dissemble 
with  Ananias  and  Sapphira  his  wife." 

Dolly  shivered  when  she  thought  of  this,  and 
was  glad  when  Nabby  would  come  up  behind 
and,  with  her  strong  hands,  seize  and  whirl  her 
away,  remarking, 

"  Dolly  Gushing,  what  won't  you  be  into  next, 
I  want  ter  know?"  And  then  she  would  pro 
ceed  to  demonstrate  the  mundane  and  earthly 
character  of  the  receptacle  by  drawing  from  it 
a  very  terrestrial  and  substantial  ham. 

Garret  number  two  was  over  the  central  por 
tion  of  the  original  house.  There  were  vast 
heaps  of  golden  corn  on  the  cob,  spread  upon 
sheets.  There  were  piles  of  bed-quilts  and  com 
forters,  and  chests  of  blankets.  There  were  rows 
and  ranges  of  old  bonnets  and  old  hats,  that 
seemed  to  nod  mysteriously  from  their  nails. 
There  were  old  spinning-wheels,  an  old  clock, 
old  arm-chairs,  and  old  pictures,  snuffy  and 
grim,  and  more  barrels  of  sermons.  There  also 
were  the  boys'  cabinets  of  mineralogical  speci 
mens  ;  for  the  Academy  teacher  was  strong  on 
geology,  and  took  his  boys  on  long  tramps  with 
stone-hammers  on  their  shoulders,  and  they  used 
to  discuss  with  great  unction  to  Dolly  of  tourma 
line,  and  hornblende,  and  mica,  ai.d  quartz,  and 
feldspar,  delighted  to  exhibit  before  her  their 
scientific  superiority. 


I70  THE  POGANUC  PARSONAGE. 

This  garret  was  a  favorite  resort  of  the  chil 
dren,  and  the  laws  of  the  Parsonage  requiring 
everything  to  be  always  in  order  were  conve 
niently  mitigated  and  abridged  in  favor  of  this 
one  spot,  where  it  was  so  convenient  to  let  the 
whole  noisy  brood  range  when  their  presence 
disturbed  the  order  below. 

There  the  boys  whittled  and  made  windmills 
and  boats,  and  rabbit-traps,  and  whistles  with 
which  they  whistled  grievously  at  unexpected 
and  startling  moments,  and  this  always  led 
to  their  mother  telling  them  that  she  was  "  as 
tonished"  at  them,  or  to  her  asking,  How  many 
times  she  must  say  whistling  was  not  allowed  in 
the  house? 

Perhaps  among  other  subjects  of  speculative 
inquiry  it  may  have  occurred  to  Mrs.  Gushing 
to  wonder  why  nature,  having  gifted  boys  in 
their  own  proper  lungs  with  such  noise-producing 
power,  should  also  come  to  their  assistance  with 
so  many  noise-producing  instruments.  There 
were  all  the  squash- vines  in  the  garden  offering 
trumpets  ready  made ;  there  was  the  elder-bush, 
growing  whistle-wood  by  the  yard ;  and  then  the 
gigantic  whistles  that  could  be  manufactured 
from  willow,  and  poplar,  and  black  alder  were 
mysteries  distressing  to  contemplate. 

One  corner  of  the  garret  was  reserved  safe 
from  the  rummaging  of  the  children,  and  there 


THE  POGANUC  PARSONAGE. 


171 


hung  in  order  the  dried  herbs,  which  formed  the 
pharmacopoeia  of  those  early  days.  There  were 
catnip,  and  boneset,  and  elder-blow,  and  hard- 
hack,  and  rosemary,  and  tansy,  and  pennyroyal, 
all  gathered  at  the  right  time  of  the  moon, 
dried  and  sorted  and  tied  in  bundles,  hanging 
from  their  different  nails — those  canonized  floral 
saints,  which  when  living  filled  the  air  with  odors 
of  health  and  sweetness,  and  whose  very  mor 
tal  remains  and  dry  bones  were  supposed  to 
have  healing  virtues.  Some  of  Dolly's  happiest 
hours  were  those  long  sunny,  joyous,  Saturday 
afternoons  in  which  many  of  these  stores  were 
gathered,  when  she  rushed  through  the  lush, 
long  grass,  along  the  borders  of  mossy  old  stone 
fences,  and  pulled  down  starry  constellations  of 
elder  blossoms,  and  gathered  pink  spires  of  hard- 
hack,  till  her  little  arms  could  scarcely  clasp 
around  the  bundle.  Then  she  would  rush  home 
panting  and  energetic,  with  torn  dress,  her  sun- 
bonnet  off  on  her  shoulder,  and  curls  all  tangled 
from  the  wrestles  with  blackberry  bushes  which 
had  disputed  the  way  with  her.  This  corner 
of  the  garret  always  filled  Dolly's  head  with 
visions  and  longings  for  the  late,  slow-coming 
spring,  which  seemed  far  off  as  the  dream  of 
Heaven. 

Then  those  barrels  of  sermons  and  old  pam 
phlets!      Dolly   had    turned    and    turned    themf 


I72  THE  POGANUC  PARSONAGE. 

upsetting  them  on  the  floor,  and  pawing  help 
lessly  with  her  little  pink  hands  and  reading  their 
titles  with  amazed  eyes.  It  seemed  to  her  that 
there  were  some  thousands  of  the  most  unin 
telligible  things.  "  An  Appeal  on  the  Unlawful 
ness  of  a  Man's  Marrying  his  Wife's  Sister" 
turned  up  in  every  barrel  she  investigated,  by 
twos  or  threes  or  dozens,  till  her  soul  despaired 
of  finding  an  end.  Then  there  were  Thanksgiving 
sermons ;  Fast-day  sermons ;  sermons  that  dis 
coursed  on  the  battle  of  Culloden ;  on  the  char 
acter  of  Frederick  the  Great;  a  sermon  on  the 
death  of  George  the  Second,  beginning,  "  George ! 
George!  George  is  no  more."  This  somewhat 
dramatic  opening  caused  Dolly  to  put  that  one 
discourse  into  her  private  library.  But  oh,  joy 
and  triumph !  one  rainy  day  she  found  at  the 
bottom  of  an  old  barrel  a  volume  of  the  "  Arabian 
Nights,"  and  henceforth  her  fortune  was  made. 
Dolly  had  no  idea  of  reading  like  that  of  our 
modern  days — to  read  and  to  dismiss  a  book. 
No ;  to  read  was  with  her  a  passion,  and  a  book 
once  read  was  read  daily;  always  becoming 
dearer  and  dearer,  as  an  old  friend.  The  "  Ara 
bian  Nights"  transported  her  to  foreign  lands, 
gave  her  a  new  life  of  her  own ;  and  when  things 
went  astray  with  her,  when  the  boys  went  to 
play  higher  than  she  dared  to  climb  in  the  barn, 
or  started  on  fishing  excursions,  where  they  con- 


THE  POGANUC  PARSONAGE.  I73 

sidcred  her  an  incumbrance,  then  she  found  a 
snug  corner,  where,  curled  up  in  a  little,  quiet 
lair,  she  could  at  once  sail  forth  on  her  bit  of 
enchanted  carpet  into  fairy  land. 

One  of  these  resorts  was  furnished  by  the  third 
garret  of  the  house,  which  had  been  finished  off 
into  an  arched  room  and  occupied  by  her  father 
as  a  study.  High  above  all  the  noise  of  the 
house,  with  a  window  commanding  a  view  of 
Poganuc  Lake  and  its  girdle  of  steel-blue  pines, 
this  room  had  to  her  the  air  of  a  refuge  and  sanc 
tuary.  Its  walls  were  set  round  from  floor  to 
ceiling  with  the  friendly,  quiet  faces  of  books,  and 
there  stood  her  father's  great  writing-chair,  on 
one  arm  of  which  lay  open  always  his  "  Cruden's 
Concordance"  and  his  Bible.  Here  Dolly  loved 
to  retreat  and  niche  herself  down  in  a  quiet 
corner,  with  her  favorite  books  around  her.  She 
had  a  kind  of  sheltered,  satisfied  feeling  as  she 
thus  sat  and  watched  her  father  writing,  turning 
his  books,  and  speaking  from  time  to  time  to  him 
self  in  a  loud,  earnest  whisper.  She  vaguely  felt 
that  he  was  about  some  holy  and  mysterious 
work  above  her  little  comprehension,  and  she  was 
careful  never  to  disturb  him  by  question  or 
remark. 

The  books  ranged  around  filled  her,  too,  with  a 
solemn  awe.  There  on  the  lower  shelves  were 
great  enormous  folios,  on  whose  backs  she  spelled 


I74  THE  POGANUC  PARSONAGE. 

in  black  letters,  "  Lightfooti  Opera,"  a  title 
whereat  she  marveled,  considering  the  bulk  of 
the  volumes.  And  overhead,  grouped  along  in 
friendly  and  sociable  rows,  were  books  of  all  sorts 
and  sizes  and  bindings,  the  titles  to  which  she 
had  read  so  often  that  she  knew  them  by  heart. 
"  Bell's  Sermons,"  "  Bennett's  Inquiries,"  "  Bogue's 
Essays,"  "  Toplady  on  Predestination,"  "  Boston's 
Fourfold  State,"  "  Law's  Serious  Call,"  and  other 
works  of  that  kind  she  had  looked  over  wistfully, 
day  after  day,  without  getting  even  a  hope  of 
something  interesting  out  of  them.  The  thought 
that  her  father  could  read  and  could  understand 
things  like  these  filled  her  with  a  vague  awe,  and 
she  wondered  if  ever  she  should  be  old  enough 
to  know  what  it  was  all  about.  But  there  was 
one  of  her  father's  books  which  proved  a  mine 
of  wealth  to  her.  It  was  a  happy  hour  when  he 
brought  home  and  set  up  in  his  book-case  Cotton 
Mather's  "  Magnalia,"  in  a  new  edition  of  two 
volumes.  What  wonderful  stories  these !  and 
stories,  too,  about  her  own  country,  stories  that 
made  her  feel  that  the  very  ground  she  trod  on 
was  consecrated  by  some  special  dealing  of  God's 
providence. 

When  the  good  Doctor  related  how  a  plague 
that  had  wasted  the  Indian  tribes  had  prepared 
the  room  for  the  Pilgrim  Fathers  to  settle  undis 
turbed,  she  felt  nowise  doubtful  of  his  application 


THE  POGANUC  PARSONAGE,  !7^ 

of  the  text,  "He  drave  out  the  heathen  and 
planted  them." 

But  who  shall  describe  the  large-eyed,  breath 
less  wonder  with  which  she  read  stories  of 
witchcraft,  with  its  weird  marvels  of  mysterious 
voices  heard  in  lonely  places,  of  awful  visitations 
that  had  overtaken  sinners,  and  immediate  de 
liverances  that  had  come  in  answer  to  the  pray 
ers  of  God's  saints?  Then,  too,  the  stories  of 
Indian  wars  and  captivities,  when  the  war-whoop 
had  sounded  at  midnight,  and  little  children  like 
her  had  awakened  to  find  the  house  beset  with 
legions  of  devils,  who  set  fire  to  the  dwellings  and 
carried  the  people  off  through  dreary  snow  and 
ice  to  Canada.  No  Jewish  maiden  ever  grew  up 
with  a  more  earnest  faith  that  she  belonged  to  a 
consecrated  race,  a  people  especially  called  and 
chosen  of  God  for  some  great  work  on  earth. 
Her  faith  in  every  word  of  the  marvels  related  in 
this  book  was  full  as  great  as  the  dear  old  cred 
ulous  Dr.  Cotton  Mather  could  have  desired. 

But  the  mysterious  areas  of  the  parsonage  were 
not  exhausted  with  its  three  garrets.  Under  the 
whole  house  in  all  its  divisions  spread  a  great 
cavernous  cellar,  where  were  murky  rooms  and 
dark  passages  explored  only  by  the  light  of 
candles.  There  were  rows  of  bins,  in  which 
were  stored  the  apples  of  every  name  and  race 
harvested  in  autumn  from  the  family  orchard  : 


I76  THE  POGANUC  PARSONAGE. 

Pearmains,  Greenings,  Seek-no-furthers,  Bris- 
ters,  Pippins,  Golden  Sweets,  and  other  forgotten 
kinds,  had  each  its  separate  bin,  to  which  the 
children  at  all  times  had  free  access.  There, 
too,  was  a  long  row  of  cider  barrels,  from  whence, 
in  the  hour  of  their  early  sweetness,  Dolly  had 
delighted  to  suck  the  cider  through  straws  for 
that  purpose  carefully  selected  and  provided. 

Not  without  a  certain  awe  was  her  descent  into 
this  shadowy  Avernus,  generally  under  the  pro 
tecting  wing  of  Nabby  or  one  of  the  older  boys. 
Sometimes,  with  the  perverse  spirit  which  moves 
the  male  nature  to  tyrannize  over  the  weaker 
members,  they  would  agonize  her  by  running 
beyond  her  into  the  darker  chambers  of  the 
cellar,  and  sending  thence  Indian  war-whoops 
and  yells  which  struck  terror  to  her  soul,  and 
even  mingled  their  horrors  with  her  dreams. 

But  there  was  one  class  of  tenants  whose  influ 
ence  and  presence  in  the  house  must  not  be 
omitted — and  that  was  the  rats. 

They  had  taken  formal  possession  of  the  par 
sonage,  grown,  bred,  and  multiplied,  and  become 
ancient  there,  in  spite  of  traps  or  cats  or  anything 
that  could  be  devised  against  them. 

The  family  cat  in  Dolly's  day,  having  taken  a 
dispassionate  survey  of  the  situation,  had  given  up 
the  matter  in  despair,  and  set  herself  quietly  to 
attending  to  her  own  family  concerns,  as  a  sensible 


THE  POGANUC  PARSONAGE.  177 

cat  should.  She  selected  the  Doctor's  pamphlet 
closet  as  her  special  domestic  retreat.  Here  she 
made  her  lair  in  a  heap  of  old  sermons,  whence, 
from  time  to  time,  she  led  forth  coveys  of 
well-educated,  theological  kittens,  who,  like  their 
mother,  gazed  on  the  rats  with  respectful  curi 
osity,  and  ran  no  imprudent  risks.  Consequently, 
the  rats  had  a  glorious  time  in  the  old  parsonage. 
Dolly,  going  up  the  kitchen  stairs  into  the  back 
garret,  as  she  did  on  her  way  bedward,  would  see 
them  sitting  easy  and  dc'gagds  on  the  corners  of 
boxes  and  bins,  with  their  tails  hanging  gracefully 
down,  engaged  in  making  meals  on  the  corn  or 
oats.  They  ramped  all  night  on  the  floor  of  the 
highest  garret  over  her  sleeping  room,  appar 
ently  busy  in  hopping  with  ears  of  corn  across 
the  garret  and  then  rolling  them  down  between 
the  beams  to  their  nests  below.  Sometimes 
Dolly  heard  them  gnawing  and  sawing  behind 
the  very  wainscot  of  her  bed  as  if  they  had  set 
up  a  carpenter's  shop  there,  and  she  shrunk  ap 
prehensively  for  fear  they  were  coming  through 
into  her  bed.  Then  there  were  battles  and  skir 
mishes  and  squealings  and  fightings,  and  at  times 
it  would  appear  as  if  whole  detachments  of  rats 
rolled  in  an  avalanche  down  the  walls  with  the 
corn  they  had  been  stealing.  And  when  the 
mighty  winter  winds  of  Poganuc  Mountain  were 
out,  and  rumbled  and  thundered,  roaring  and 


I78  THE  POGANUC  PARSONAGE. 

tumbling  down  this  chimney,  rattling  all  the 
windows  and  creaking  all  the  doors,  while  the 
beams  of  the  house  wrenched  and  groaned  like 
a  ship  at  sea,  and  the  house  seemed  to  shake 
on  its  very  foundations, — then  the  uproar  among 
the  rats  grew  higher  and  jollier,  and,  with  all 
put  together,  it  is  not  surprising  that  some 
times  Dolly  put  the  bed-clothes  over  her  head  in 
fear,  or  ran  and  jumped  into  Nabby's  warm  arms 
for  protection. 

We  have  dwelt  thus  long  on  the  old  parsonage 
because  it  was  a  silent  influence,  every  day  fash 
ioning  the  sensitive,  imaginative  little  soul  that 
was  growing  up  in  its  own  sphere  of  loneliness 
there. 

For  Mrs.  Gushing  had,  besides  Dolly,  other 
children  who  engaged  her  thoughts  and  care. 
The  eldest  a  son,  studying  for  the  ministry ;  the 
second  a  daughter,  married  and  settled  in  a  distant 
part  of  the  state ;  another  son  working  as  teacher 
to  pay  his  past  college  expenses ;  another  son  in 
college,  whose  bills,  clothing,  books,  and  necessary 
expenses  formed  constant  items  of  thought,  study, 
and  correspondence  ;  so  that,  with  the  two  boys 
in  the  academy  and  our  little  Dolly,  she  had  heart 
and  hands  full,  and  small  time  to  watch  all  the 
fancies  and  dreams  that  drifted  through  that  little 
head  as  clouds  through  summer  skies.  Satisfied 
that  the  child  was  healthy,  and  that  there  was  no 


THE  POGANUC  PARSONAGE.  I79 

positive  danger  or  harm  to  be  fallen  into,  she 
dismissed  her  from  her  thoughts,  except  in  the 
way  of  general  supervision. 

Yet  every  day,  as  the  little  maiden  grew, 
some  quaint,  original  touch  was  put  to  the  form 
ing  character  by  these  surroundings. 

As  to  Dolly's  father,  he  was  a  worthy  repre 
sentative  of  that  wise  and  strong  Connecticut 
clergy  that  had  the  wisdom  immediately  to  face 
a  change  in  the  growth  of  society,  to  lay  down 
gracefully  a  species  of  power  they  could  no  longer 
wield,  and  to  take  up  and  exercise,  and  strengthen 
themselves  in,  a  kind  of  power  that  could 
never  be  taken  from  them.  Privileged  orders  of 
society  are  often  obstructionists,  because  they  do 
not  know,  in  the  day  of  it,  the  things  that  belong 
to  their  peace. 

The  Connecticut  and  New  England  clergy  did 
not  thus  err.  When  the  theocracy  had  passed 
away,  they  spent  no  time  lamenting  it.  They  let 
the  cocked  hat,  gold-headed  cane,  gown  and 
bands  go  down  stream ;  they  let  all  laws  pro 
tecting  their  order  go  by ;  and  addressed  them 
selves  simply  to  the  work  of  leading  their 
people,  as  men  with  men,  only  by  seeking  to 
be  stronger,  wiser,  and  better  men.  To  know 
more,  to  have  more  faith  in  the  Invisible  and 
Eternal,  to  be  able  to  argue  more  logically  to 
convince  and  to  persuade — these  were  now  their 


!8o  THE  POGANUC  PARSONAGE. 

ambition.  Dr.  Gushing  was  foremost  in  this  new 
crusade  of  earnestness.  He  determined  to  preach 
more  and  preach  better  than  ever  he  had  done 
before,  and  consequently  in  his  wide  parish,  which 
covered  a  square  of  about  ten  miles,  he  was  every 
day  preaching,  visiting,  attending  prayer-meet 
ings.  Often  his  wife  was  with  him,  and  this  gave 
Dolly  many  hours  when  she  was  free  to  follow 
her  own  little  pursuits,  and  to  pick  up  at  the 
chimney-corner  some  of  the  traditionary  lore  of 
the  period. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

SPRING    AND    SUMMER    COME    AT    LAST. 

|UT  at  last — at  last — spring  did  come 
at  Poganuc  !  This  marvel  and  mystery 
of  the  new  creation  did  finally  take 
place  there  every  year,  in  spite  of  every 
appearance  to  the  contrary.  Long  after  the 
blue-bird  that  had  sung  the  first  promise  had 
gone  back  into  his  own  celestial  ether,  the 
promise  that  he  sang  was  fulfilled. 

Like  those  sweet,  foreseeing  spirits,  that  on 
high,  bare  tree-tops  of  human  thought  pour 
forth  songs  of  hope  in  advance  of  their  age  and 
time,  our  blue-bird  was  gifted  with  the  sure 
spirit  of  prophecy;  and,  though  the  winds  were 
angry  and  loud,  though  snows  lay  piled  and  deep 
for  long  weeks  after,  though  ice  and  frost  and  hail 
armed  themselves  in  embattled  forces,  yet  the 
sun  behind  them  all  kept  shining  and  shining, 
every  day  longer  and  longer,  every  day  drawing 
nearer  and  nearer,  till  the  snows  passed  away  like 
a  bad  dream,  and  the  brooks  woke  up  and  began 

181 


!g2        SPRING  AND  SUMMER  COME  AT  LAST. 

to  laugh  and  gurgle,  and  the  ice  went  out  of  the 
ponds.  Then  the  pussy-willows  threw  out  their 
soft  catkins,  and  the  ferns  came  up  with  their 
woolly  hoods  on,  like  prudent  old  house-mothers, 
looking  to  see  if  it  was  yet  time  to  unroll  their 
tender  greens,  and  the  white  blossoms  of  the 
shad-blow  and  the  tremulous  tags  of  the  birches 
and  alders  shook  themselves  gaily  out  in  the 
woods.  Then  under  brown  rustling  leaf-banks 
came  the  white  waxy  shells  of  the  trailing  arbutus 
with  its  pink  buds,  fair  as  a  winter's  dawn  on 
snow ;  then  the  blue  and  white  hepaticas  opened 
their  eyes,  and  cold,  sweet  white  violets  starred 
the  moist  edges  of  water  courses,  and  great 
blue  violets  opened  large  eyes*  in  the  shadows, 
and  the  white  and  crimson  trilliums  unfurled 
under  the  flickering  lace-work  shadows  of  the 
yet  leafless  woods ;  the  red  columbine  waved  its 
bells  from  the  rocks,  and  great  tufts  of  golden 
cowslips  fringed  the  borders  of  the  brooks. 
Then  came  in  flocks  the  delicate  wind-flower 
family :  anemones,  starry  white,  and  the  crow 
foot,  with  its  pink  outer  shell,  and  the  spotted 
adder's  tongue,  with  its  waving  yellow  bells  of 
blossom.  Then,  too,  the  honest,  great  green 
leaves  of  the  old  skunk  cabbage,  most  refresh 
ing  to  the  eye  in  its  hardy,  succulent  greenness, 
though  an  abomination  to  the  nose  of  the  ill- 
informed  who  should  be  tempted  to  gather  them. 


SPXIXG  AND  SUMMER  COME  AT  LAST.       ^3 

Iii  a  few  weeks  the  woods,  late  so  frozen — hope 
lessly  buried  in  snow  drifts — were  full  of  a  thou 
sand  beauties  and  delicacies  of  life  and  motion, 
and  flowers  bloomed  on  every  hand.  "  Thou 
sendest  forth  thy  spirit,  they  are  created  :  and 
thou  renewest  the  face  of  the  earth." 

And,  not  least,  the  opening  season  had  set  free 
the  imprisoned  children ;  and  Dolly  and  the 
boys,  with  Spring  at  their  heels,  had  followed 
the  courses  of  the  brooks  and  the  rippling  brown 
shallows  of  Poganuc  River  for  many  a  blissful 
hour,  and  the  parsonage  had  every  where  been 
decorated  with  tumblers  and  tea-cups  holding 
floral  offerings  of  things  beautiful  at  the  time  they 
were  gathered,  but  becoming  rather  a  matter  of 
trial  to  the  eye  of  exact  housekeeping.  Yet  both 
Mrs.  Gushing  and  Nabby  had  a  soft  heart  lor 
Dolly's  flowers,  sharing  themselves  the  general 
sense  of  joy  for  the  yearly  deliverance  of  which 
they  were  the  signs  and  seals.  And  so  the 
work  of  renewing  the  face  of  the  earth  went  on 
from  step  to  step.  The  lorest  hills  around 
Poganuc  first  grew  misty  with  a  gentle  haze  of 
pink  and  lilac,  which  in  time  changed  to  green 
and  then  to  greener  shades,  till  at  last  the  full- 
clothed  hills  stood  forth  in  the  joy  of  re-creation, 
and,  as  of  old,  "all  the  trees  of  the  field  clapped 
their  hands." 

Poganuc  in  its  summer  dress  was  a  beautiful 


!84       SPKIA7G  AND  SUMMER  COME  AT  LAST. 

place.  Its  main  street  had  a  row  of  dignified 
white  houses,  with  deep  door-yards  and  large 
side-gardens,  where  the  great  scarlet  peony 
flamed  forth,  where  were  generous  tufts  of  white 
lilies,  with  tall  spires  of  saintly  blossoms,  and 
yellow  lilies  with  their  faint  sweet  perfume,  and 
all  the  good  old  orthodox  flowers  of  stately  family 
and  valid  pretensions.  In  all  the  door-yards  and 
along  the  grassy  streets  on  either  side  were  over 
shadowing,  long-branching  trees,  forming  a  roof 
of  verdure,  a  green  upper  world  from  whose  re 
cesses  birds  dropped  down  their  songs  in  lan 
guages  unknown  to  us  mortals.  Who  shall 
interpret  what  is  meant  by  the  sweet  jargon  of 
robin  and  oriole  and  bobolink,  with  their  endless 
reiterations?  Something  wiser,  perhaps,  than  we 
dream  of  in  our  lower  life  here. 

Not  a  bit,  however,  did  Hiel  Jones  trouble 
his  head  on  this  subject  as  he  came  in  on  his 
high  stage  seat  in  lordly  style  on  the  evening 
of  the  third  of  July.  Far  other  cares  were  in 
Hiel's  head,  for  to-morrow  was  the  glorious 
Fourth — the  only  really  secular  fete  known  to 
the  Yankee  mind — and  a  great  celebration  there 
of  had  been  resolved  on  by  the  magnates  of 
Poganuc,  and  Hiel  was  captain  of  the  "  Poganuc 
Rangers" — a  flourishing  militia  company  which 
was  to  be  the  ornament  of  the  forthcoming  cel 
ebration. 


SPRING  AND  SUMMER  COME  AT  LAST.        ^5 

It  had  been  agreed  for  that  time  to  drop  all 
political  distinctions.  Federalists  and  Democrats, 
Town  Hill  folk  and  outside  folk,  were  all  of  one 
mind  and  spirit  to  make  this  a  celebration  worthy 
of  Poganuc  Center  and  the  great  cause  of  Amer 
ican  Independence.  A  veritable  cannon  had  been 
hauled  up  upon  the  village  green  and  fired  once 
or  twice  to  relieve  the  bursting  impatience  of 
the  boys  and  men  who  had  helped  put  it  there. 
The  flag  with  its  stars  and  stripes  was  already 
waving  from  the  top  of  the  Court-house,  and  a 
platform  was  being  put  up  in  the  Meeting-house, 
and  people  were  running  this  way  and  that, 
and  standing  in  house-doors,  and  talking  with 
each  other  over  fences,  in  a  way  that  showed 
that  something  was  impending. 

Hiel  sprang  from  his  box,  and,  after  attending 
to  his  horses,  speedily  appeared  on  the  green  to 
see  to  things — for  how  could  the  celebration 

O 

to-morrow  be  properly  presented  without  Kiel's 
counsels  ? 

"  Look  here,  now,  boys,"  he  said  to  the  group 
assembled  around  the  cannon,  "  don't  be  a 
burnin'  out  yer  powder.  Keep  it  for  to-morrow. 
Let  her  be  now;  ye  don't  want  to  keep  bangin' 
and  bangin'  afore  the  time.  To-morrow  mornin' 
we'll  let  'er  rip  bright  and  early,  and  wake  all 
the  folks.  Clear  out,  now,  and  go  home  to  yer 
suppers,  and  don't  be  a  blowin'  yerselves  up 


X86       SPRING  AND  SUMMER  COME  AT  LAST, 

with  powder  so  that  ye  can't  see  the  show  to 
morrow." 

Hiel  then  proceeded  into  the  Meeting-house 
and  criticised  proceedings  there. 

"  Look  here,  Jake,  you  jest  stretch  that  air 
carpet  a  leetle  forrard ;  ye  see,  ye  want  the  most 
out  in  front  where 't  shows;  back  there,  why, 
the  chairs  and  table'll  kiver  it;  it  ain't  so  much 
matter.  Wonder  now  ef  them  air  boards  is  firm? 
Wouldn't  do,  lettin'  on  'em  all  down  into  the 
pews  in  the  midst  on't.  Look  here,  Seth  Chick- 
ering,  ye  need  another  prop  under  there;  ye 
hain't  calkerlated  for  the  heft  o'  them  fellers — 
governors  and  colonels  and  ministers  weighs 
putty  heavy,  and  there  ain't  no  glory  in  a  gin- 
eral  smash-up,  and  we're  a  goin'  in  for  glory 
to-morrow ;  we're  goin'  to  sarve  it  out  clear,  and 
no  mistake." 

Hiel  was  a  general  favorite ;  his  word  of  crit 
icism  was  duly  accepted,  and  things  were  pretty 
comfortably  adjusted  to  his  mind  when  he  went 
home  to  eat  his  supper  and  try  on  his  regi 
mentals. 

The  dry,  hard,  colorless  life  of  a  Yankee  boy 
in  those  days  found  some  relief  in  the  periods 
called  "  training-days,"  when  the  militia  assem 
bled  in  uniform  and  marched  and  drilled  to  the 
sound  of  fife  and  drum.  Hiel  had  expended 
quite  a  round  sum  upon  his  uniform  and  was 


SPRING  AND  SUMMER  COME  A  T  LAST.       r87 

not  insensible  to  the  transformation  which  it 
wrought  in  his  personal  appearance. 

The  widow  Jones  kept  his  gold-laced  cocked- 
hat,  his  bright  gold  epaulets,  his  whole  soldier 
suit  in  fact,  enveloped  in  many  papers  and  nap 
kins,  and  locked  away  in  one  of  her  most  sacred 
recesses ;  but  it  was  with  pride  that  she  gave 
him  up  the  key,  and  when  he  came  out  before 
her,  all  in  full  array,  her  soul  was  inly  uplifted. 
Her  son  was  a  hero  in  her  eyes. 

"  It's  all  right,  Mother,  I  believe,"  said  Hiel, 
surveying  himself  first  over  one  shoulder  and 
then  the  other,  and  consulting  the  looking-glass 
fringed  with  gilt  knobs  that  hung  in  the  widow's 
11  keeping-room." 

"  Yes,  indeed,  Hiel,  it's  all  right.  I've  kep' 
camphor  gum  with  it  to  keep  out  the  moths,  and 
wrapped  it  up  to  save  the  gold,  and  I  don't  see 
that  it's  a  grain  altered  since  it  came  home  new. 
It's  just  as  new  as  ever  'twas." 

Hiel  may  be  pardoned  for  smiling  somewhat 
complacently  on  the  image  in  the  glass — which 
certainly  was  that  of  a  very  comely  youth— and 
when  he  reflected  that  Nabby  would  to-morrow 
see  him  at  the  head  of  his  company  his  heart 
'  swelled  with  a  secret  exultation.  It  is  not  alone 
the  privilege  of  the  fair  sex  to  know  when  things 
are  becoming  to  them,  and  Hiel  knew  when  he 
looked  well,  as  surely  as  if  any  one  had  told  him. 


!88        SPRING  AND  SUMMER  COME  AT  LAST. 

He  gave  himself  a  patronizing  wink  and  whistled 
a  strain  of  "  Yankee  Doodle"  as  he  turned  away 
from  the  glass,  perhaps  justly  confiding  in  the 
immemorial  power  which  military  trappings  have 
always  exercised  over  the  female  heart. 

It  was  with  reluctance  that  he  laid  aside  the 
fascinating  costume,  and  set  himself  to  brightening 
up  here  and  there  a  spot  upon  his  sword-hilt  or 
blade  that  called  for  an  extra  touch. 

"  We  must  have  breakfast  early  to-morrow, 
Mother;  the  boys  will  be  here  by  sunrise." 

"  Never  you  fear,"  said  the  widow.  "  I've  got 
everything  ready,  and  we'll  be  all  through  by 
that  time ;  but  it 's  as  well  to  get  to  bed  now." 

And  so  in  a  few  minutes  more  the  candles  were 
out  and  only  the  sound  of  the  frogs  and  the 
whippoorwills  broke  the  stillness  of  the  cottage. 
Long  before  the  nine  o'clock  bell  rung  Hiel  and 
his  mother  were  happy  in  the  land  of  dreams?) 

In  the  parsonage,  too,  there  had  been  an  effort 
of  discipline  to  produce  the  needed  stillness  and 
early  hours  called  for  by  to-morrow's  exactions. 

The  boys,  who  had  assisted  at  the  dragging  in 
of  the  cannon  and  heard  its  first  reverberation, 
were  in  a  most  inflammatory  state  of  patriotism, 
longing  wildly  for  gunpowder.  In  those  days  no 
fire-crackers  or  other  vents  of  the  kind  had  been 
provided  for  the  relief  of  boys  under  pressure  oJ 
excitement,  and  so  they  were  forced  to  become 


SPRING  AND  SUMMER  COME  A  T  LAST.       j89 

explosive  material  themselves,  and  the  walls  of 
the  parsonage  rang  with  the  sound.  Dolly  also 
was  flying  wildly  around,  asking  Nabby  questions 
about  to-morrow  and  running  away  before  she 
got  her  answer,  to  listen  to  some  new  outburst 

from  the  boys. 

Nabby,  however,  had  her  own  very  decisive 
ways  of  putting  things,  and  settled  matters  at  last 
by  putting  her  to  bed,  saying  as  she  did  so, 
"  Now,  Dolly  Gushing,  you  just  shut  up.  You 
are  crazier  than  a  bobolink,  and  if  you  don't  be 
still  and  go  to  sleep  I  won't  touch  to  take  you 
with  me  to  see  the  trainers  to-morrow.  Your 
ma  said  you  might  go  with  me  if  you'd  be  good ; 
so  you  just  shut  up  and  go  to  sleep;"  and  Dolly 
shut  her  eyes  hard  and  tried  to  obey. 

We  shall  not  say  that  the^e  were  not  some 
corresponding  movements  before  the  glass  on  the 
part  of  Nabby  before  retiring.  It  certainly  came 
into  her  head  to  try  on  her  bonnet,  which  had 
been  thriftily  re-trimmed  and  re-arranged  for 
summer  use  since  the  time  of  that  sleigh-ride 
with  Hiel.  Moreover,  she  chose  out  her  gown 
and  sorted  a  knot  of  ribbons  to  go  with  it.  "  I 
suppose,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  all  the  girls  will  be 
making  fools  of  themselves  about  Hiel  Jones  to 
morrow,  but  I  ain't  a  going  to."  Nevertheless, 
she  thought  there  was  no  harm  in  looking  as  well 
as  she  could. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

DOLLY'S  "FOURTH." 

|ANG !  went  the  cannon  on  the  green, 
just  as  the  first  red  streak  appeared 
over  Poganuc  hills,  and  open  flew 
Dolly's  great  blue  eyes.  Every  boy 
in  town  was  out  of  bed  as  if  he  had  been  fired 
out  of  a  pop-gun,  and  into  his  clothes  and  out 
on  the  green  with  a  celerity  scarcely  short  of 
the  miraculous.  Dolly's  little  toilet  took  more 
time ;  but  she,  too,  was  soon  out  upon  the  scene 
with  her  curls  in  a  wild,  unbrushed  tangle,  her 
little  breast  swelling  and  beating  with  a  great 
enthusiasm  for  General  Washington  and  liberty 
and  her  country,  all  of  which  were  somehow 
to  be  illustrated  and  honored  that  day  in  Po 
ganuc. 

As  the  first  rays  of  the  rising  sun  struck  the 
stars  and  stripes  floating  over  the  Court-house, 
and  the  sound  of  distant  drum  and  fife  announced 
the  coming  in  of  the  Poganuc  Rangers,  Dolly 

was  so  excited  that  she  burst  into  tears. 
190 


DOLLY'S  "FOURTH? 


191 


"  What  in  the  world  are  you  crying  for,  Dolly  ?" 
said  Bill  rather  impatiently.  "  I  don't  see  any 
thing  to  cry  about." 

"  I  can't  help  it,  Will,"  said  Dolly,  wiping  her 
eyes,  "  it's  so  glorious !" 

"  If  that  isn't  just  like  a  girl!"  said  Bill.  Con 
tempt  could  go  no  farther,  and  Dolly  retreated 
abashed.  She  was  a  girl — there  was  no  help  for 
that ;  but  for  this  one  day  she  envied  the  boys— 
the  happy  boys  who  might  some  day  grow  up 
and  fight  for  their  country,  and  do  something 
glorious  like  General  Washington.  Meanwhile, 
from  mouth  to  mouth,  every  one  was  giving  in 
advance  an  idea  of  what  the  splendors  of  the  day 
were  to  be. 

"  I  tell  ye,"  said  Abe  Bowles,  "  this  'ere's  goin' 
to  be  a  reel  slam-bang,  this  'ere  is.  Colonel 
Davenport  is  a  goin'  to  review  the  troops,  and 
wear  the  very  same  uniform  he  wore  at  Long 
Island. 

"Yes,"  said  Liph  Kingsley,  "and  old  Caesar's 
goin'  to  wear  his  uniform  and  wait  on  the 
colonel.  Tell  ye  what,  the  old  snowball  is  on 
his  high  heels  this  morning — got  a  suit  of  the 
colonel's  old  uniform.  Won't  he  strut  and  show 
his  ivories!" 

"  Hulloa,  boys,  there's  going  to  be  a  sham 
fight;  Hiel  told  me  so,"  said  Bob  Gushing. 
"  Some  are  going  to  be  British  and  some  Amcri- 


I92  DOLLY'S  "FOURTH:* 

cans,  and  the  Americans  are  going  to  whip  the 
British  and  make  'em  run." 

"Tell  ye  what,"  said  Jake  Freeman,  " there'll 
be  a  bangin'  and  poppin' !  won't  there,  boys!" 

"  Oh,"  said  Dolly,  who  irrepressibly  was  fol 
lowing  her  brothers  into  the  throng,  "they  won't 
really  shoot  anybody,  will  they?" 

"  Oh  no,  they'll  only  fire  powder,  of  course," 
said  Bill  majestically;  "don't  you  know  that?" 

Dolly  was  rebuked  and  relieved  at  once. 

"  I  say,  boys,"  said  Nabby,  appearing  suddenly 
among  the  throng,  "your  ma  says  you  must 
come  right  home  to  breakfast  this  minit ;  and 
you,  Dolly  Gushing,  what  are  you  out  here  for, 
round  among  the  fellers  like  a  torn-boy?  Come 
right  home." 

"  Why,  Nabby,  I  wanted  to  see !"  pleaded 
Dolly. 

"  Oh  yes,  you're  allers  up  to  everything  and 
into  everything,  and  your  hair  not  brushed  nor 
nothin'.  You'll  see  it  all  in  good  time — come 
right  away.  Don't  be  a-lookin'  at  them  train 
ers,  now,"  she  added,  giving  herself,  however, 
a  good  observing  glance  to  where  across  the 
green  a  knot  of  the  Poganuc  Rangers  were  col 
lecting,  and  where  Hiel,  in  full  glory  of  his 
uniform,  with  his  gold  epaulets  and  cocked  hat, 
was  as  busy  and  impressive  as  became  the 
situation. 


DOLLY'S  "FOURTH."  !93 

"Oh,  Nabby,  do  look;  there's  Hiel,"  cried 
Dolly. 

"Yes,  yes;  I  see  plain  enough  there's  Hiel," 
said  Nabby;  "he  thinks  he's  mighty  grand,  I 
suppose.  He'll  be  conceiteder'n  ever,  I  expect." 

Just  as  that  moment  Hiel,  recognizing  Nabby, 
took  off  his  gold-laced  hat  and  bowed  with  a 
graceful  flourish. 

Nabby  returned  a  patronizing  little  nod,  and 
either  the  morning  dawn,  or  the  recent  heat  of 
the  kitchen  fire,  or  something,  flushed  her  cheeks. 
It  was  to  be  remarked  in  evidence  of  the  pres 
ence  of  mind  that  distinguishes  the  female  sex 
that,  though  she  had  been  sent  out  on  a  hurried 
errand  to  call  the  children,  yet  she  had  on  her 
best  bonnet,  and  every  curl  of  her  hair  had  evi 
dently  been  carefully  and  properly  attended  to 
that  morning. 

"Of  course,  I  wasn't  going  to  look  like  a 
fright,"  she  soliloquized.  "Not  that  I  care  for 
any  of  'em  ;  but  looks  is  looks  any  time  o'  day." 

At  the  minister's  breakfast-table  the  approach 
ing  solemnities  were  discussed.  The  procession 
was  to  form  at  the  Court-house  at  nine  o'clock. 
Democrats  and  Federalists  had  united  to  dis 
tribute  impartially  as  possible  the  honors  of  the 
day.  As  Col.  Davenport,  the  only  real  live 
revolutionary  officer  the  county  boasted,  was  an 
essential  element  of  the  show,  and  as  he  was  a 


1 94  DOLLY'S  "FOURTH." 

staunch  Federalist,  it  was  necessary  to  be  con 
ciliatory.  Then  there  was  the  Federal  ex- 
Governor  to  sit  on  the  platform  with  the  newly 
elected  Democratic  Governor.  The  services 
were  in  the  Meeting-house,  as  the  largest  build 
ing  in  town ;  and  Dr.  Gushing  was  appointed  to 
make  the  opening  prayer.  As  a  compliment  to 
the  Episcopal  Church  the  Federal  members  of 
the  committee  allotted  a  closing  prayer  to  the 
Reverend  Simeon  Coan. 

That  young  man,  however,  faithful  to  the 
logic  of  his  creed,  politely  declined  joining  in 
public  services  where  his  assisting  might  be 
held  to  recognize  the  ordination  of  an  un 
authorized  sectarian  preacher,  and  so  the  Rev. 
Dr.  Goodman,  of  Skantic,  was  appointed  in  his 
place. 

Squire  Lewis  was  observed  slightly  to  elevate 
his  eye -brows  and  shrug  his  shoulders  as  he 
communicated  to  the  committee  the  grounds  of 
his  rector's  refusal.  He  was  in  fact  annoyed, 
and  a  little  embarrassed,  by  the  dry,  amused  ex 
pression  of  Sheriff  Dennie's  countenance. 

"  Oh,  speak  it  all  out ;  never  fear,  Lewis,"  he 
said.  "  I  like  to  see  a  man  face  the  music. 
Your  minister  is  a  logical  fellow,  and  keeps 
straight  up  to  what  he  teaches.  You  old  Epis 
copalians  were  getting  loose  in  your  ideas  ;  you 
needed  cording  up." 


DOLLY^S  "FOURTH."  !95 

"  There's  such  a  thing  as  cording  too  tight 
and  breaking  a  string  sometimes,"  muttered  the 
Squire,  who  was  not  well  pleased  at  the  scruple 
that  kept  his  church  unrepresented  in  the  ex 
ercises. 

The  domestic  arrangements  for  the  parson's 
family  were  announced  at  the  breakfast  table. 
The  boys  were  endowed  with  the  magnificent 
sum  of  six  cents  each  and  turned  loose  for  the 
day,  with  the  parting  admonition  to  keep  clear 
of  powder — a  most  hopeless  and  unnecessary 
charge,  since  powder  was  the  very  heart  and 
essence  of  all  the  glory  of  the  day. 

At  an  early  hour  the  bell  of  the  Meeting-house 
rang  out  over  all  the  neighboring  hills  and  val 
leys;  the  summons  was  replied  to  by  streams 
of  wagons  on  the  roads  leading  to  Poganuc  for 
a  square  of  ten  miles  round.  Not  merely  Pog 
anuc — North,  South,  East,  West,  and  Center- 
was  in  motion,  but  several  adjacent  towns  and 
villages  sent  forth  their  trainers — bands  of  mili 
tia,  who  rose  about  midnight  and  marched  till 
morning  to  be  on  time. 

By  nine  o'clock  nominally  (but  far  nearer  to 
ten  really)  the  procession  started  from  the  Court 
house  with  drum  and  fife  and  banners.  Dolly 
had  been  committed  for  the  day  to  the  charge 
of  Nabby,  who  should  see  that  she  took  no  harm, 
and  engineer  for  her  the  best  chances  of  seeing 


196  DOLLY'S  " 'FOURTH." 

all  that  went  on;  while  Mrs.  Gushing,  relieved 
of  this  care,  took  her  seat  quietly  among  the 
matronage  of  Poganuc  and  waited  for  the  en 
trance  of  the  procession.  But  Dolly  saw  them 
start  from  the  Court-house,  with  beat  of  drum 
and  peal  of  fife  ;  and  Dolly  saw  the  banners,  and 
saw  Colonel  Davenport  with  his  white  hair  and 
splendid  physique,  now  more  splendid  in  the 
blue  and  gold  of  his  military  dress ;  and  they 
all  marched  with  majestic  tread  towards  the 
meeting-house.  Then  Nabby  hurried  with  her 
charge  and  got  for  her  a  seat  by  herself  in  the 
front  singers'  seat  in  the  gallery,  where  she  could 
see  them  all  file  in  and  take  their  seats  on  the 
platform.  Nabby  had  been  one  of  the  flowers 
of  this  singers'  seat  before  her  father's  change 
of  base  had  transferred  her  to  the  Episcopal 
Church,  and  her  presence  to-day  was  welcomed 
by  many  old  friends --for  Nabby  had  a  good, 
strong  clear  voice  of  her  own,  and  was  no  small 
addition  to  the  choral  force. 

The  services  opened   by  the  national  Puritan 
psalm : 

"  Let  children  hear  the  mighty  deeds 
Which  God  performed  of  old, 
Which  in  our  younger  years  we  saw 
And  which  our  fathers  told. 

"  Our  lips  shall  teach  them  to  our  sons, 
And  they  again  to  theirs, 
That  generations  yet  unborn 
May  teach  them  to  their  heirs. 


DOLLY'S  "FOURTH,"  I97 

"  That  they  may  learn,  in  God  alone 
Their  hope  securely  stands  ; 
That  they  may  ne'er  his  laws  forget, 
But  practice  his  commands." 

The  wild  warble  of  "  St.  Martin's,"  the  ap 
pointed  tune  whose  wings  bore  these  words, 
swelled  and  billowed  and  reverberated  through 
the  house,  carrying  with  it  that  indefinable 
thrill  which  always  fills  a  house  when  deep 
emotions  are  touched — deepest  among  people 
habitually  reserved  and  reticent  of  outward  dem 
onstration.  It  was  this  solemn  undertone,  this 
mysterious,  throbbing  sub-bass  of  repressed  emo 
tion,  which  gave  the  power  and  effect  to  the 
Puritan  music.  After  the  singing  came  Dr.  Cush- 
ing's  prayer — which  was  a  recounting  of  God's 
mercies  to  New  England  from  the  beginning,  and 
of  his  deliverances  from  her  enemies,  and  of 
petitions  for  the  glorious  future  of  the  United 
States  of  America — that  they  might  be  chosen 
vessels,  commissioned  to  bear  the  light  of  liberty 
and  religion  through  all  the  earth  and  to  bring  in 
the  great  millennial  day,  when  wars  should  cease 
and  the  whole  world,  released  from  the  thraldom 
of  evil,  should  rejoice  in  the  light  of  the  Lord. 

The  millennium  was  ever  the  star  of  hope  in 
the  eyes  of  the  New  England  clergy :  their  faces 
were  set  eastward,  towards  the  dawn  of  that 
day,  and  the  cheerfulness  of  those  anticipations 
illuminated  the  hard  tenets  of  their  theology  with 


I98  DOLLYS  "FOURTH? 

a  rosy  glow.  They  were  children  of  the  morning. 
The  Doctor,  however,  did  not  fail  to  make  use  of 
his  privilege  to  give  some  very  decided  political 
hits,  and  some  petitions  arose  which  caused  sensa 
tion  between  the  different  parties.  The  New 
England  clergyman  on  these  occasions  had  his 
political  antagonists  at  decided  advantage.  If  he 
could  not  speak  at  them  he  could  pray  at  them, 
and  of  course  there  was  no  reply  to  an  impeach 
ment  in  the  court  of  heaven.  So  when  the 
Doctor's  prayer  was  over,  glances  were  inter 
changed,  showing  the  satisfaction  or  dissatisfac 
tion,  as  might  be,  of  the  listeners. 

And  now  rose  Colonel  Davenport  to  read  the 
Declaration  of  Independence.  Standing  square 
and  erect,  his  head  thrown  back,  he  read  in 
a  resonant  and  emphatic  voice  that  great  enuncia 
tion  upon  which  American  national  existence  was 
founded. 

Dolly  had  never  heard  it  before,  and  even  now 
had  but  a  vague  idea  of  what  was  meant  by  some 
parts  of  it;  but  she  gathered  enough  from  the 
recital  of  the  abuses  and  injuries  which  had 
driven  her  nation  to  this  course  to  feel  herself 
swelling  with  indignation,  and  ready  with  all  her 
little  mind  and  strength  to  applaud  that  con 
cluding  Declaration  of  Independence  which  the 
Colonel  rendered  with  resounding  majesty.  She 
was  as  ready  as  any  of  them  to  pledge  her  "  life, 


DOLLY'S  "FOURTH?  !99 

fortune  and  sacred  honor"  for  such  a  cause. 
The  heroic  element  was  strong  in  Dolly ;  it  had 
come  down  by  "ordinary  generation"  from  a 
line  of  Puritan  ancestry,  and  just  now  it  swelled 
her  little  frame  and  brightened  her  cheeks  and 
made  her  long  t©  do  something,  she  scarce  knew 
what ;  to  fight  for  her  country  or  to  make  some 
declaration  on  her  own  account. 

But  now  came  the  oration  of  the  day,  pro 
nounced  by  a  lively  young  Virginia  law  student 
in  the  office  of  Judge  Gridley.  It  was  as  ornate 
and  flowery,  as  full  of  patriotism  and  promise,  as 
has  been  the  always  approved  style  of  such  pro 
ductions.  The  bird  of  our  nation  received  the 
usual  appropriate  flourishes,  flew  upward  and 
sun-ward,  waved  his  pinions,  gazed  with  un 
daunted  eye  on  the  brightness,  and  did  all  other 
things  appointed  for  the  American  Eagle  to  do 
on  the  Fourth  of  July.  It  was  a  nicely-written 
classical  composition,  and  eminently  satisfactory 
to  the  audience ;  and  Dolly,  without  any  very 
direct  conception  of  its  exact  meaning,  was  de 
lighted  with  it,  and  so  were  all  the  Poganuc 
People. 

Then  came  the  singing  of  an  elaborate  anthem, 
on  which  the  choir  had  been  practicing  for  a 
month  beforehand  and  in  which  the  various  parts 
ran,  and  skipped,  and  hopped,  and  chased  each 
other  round  and  round,  and  performed  all  sorts 


2oo  DOLLY'S  "FOURTH." 

of  unheard-of  trills  and  quavers  and  musical  evo 
lutions,  with  a  heartiness  of  self-satisfaction  that 
was  charming  to  witness. 

Then,  when  all  was  over,  the  procession 
marched  out — the  magnates  on  the  stage  to  a 
dinner,  and  the  Poganuc  military  to  refresh  them 
selves  at  Glazier's,  preparatory  to  the  grand 
review  in  the  afternoon. 

Dolly  spent  her  six  cents  for  ginger-bread,  and 
walked  unwearyingly  the  rounds  of  sight-seeing 
with  Nabby,  her  soul  inly  uplifted  with  the 
grandeur  of  the  occasion. 

In  the  afternoon  came  the  military  display ; 
and  Colonel  Davenport  on  his  white  horse  re 
viewed  the  troops ;  and  just  behind  him,  also 
mounted,  was  old  Cato,  with  his  gold-laced  hat 
and  plume,  his  buff  breeches  and  long-tailed  blue 
coat.  On  the  whole,  this  solemn  black  attendant 
formed  a  striking  and  picturesque  addition  to  the 
scene.  And  so  there  were  marching  and  counter 
marching  and  military  evolutions  of  all  kinds,  and 
Hiei,  with  his  Poganuc  Rangers,  figured  conspic 
uously  in  the  eyes  of  all. 

It  was  a  dangerous  sight  for  Nabby.  She 
really  could  not  help  feeling  a  secret  awe  for 
Hiel,  as  if  he  had  been  wafted  away  from  her 
into  some  higher  sphere ;  he  looked  so  very  de 
termined  and  martial  that  she  began  to  admit 
that  he  might  carry  any  fortress  that  he  set 


DOLLY'S  "  FOURTH:*  201 

himself  seriously  to  attack.  After  the  regular 
review  came  the  sham  fight,  which  was  in  fact 
but  an  organized  military  frolic.  Some  of  the 
West  Poganuc  youth  had  dressed  themselves  as 
Indians,  and  other  companies,  drawn  by  lot, 
were  to  personate  the  British,  and  there  was 
skirmishing  and  fighting  and  running,  to  the  wild 
and  crazy  delight  of  the  boys.  A  fort,  which  had 
been  previously  constructed  of  bushes  and  trees, 
was  furiously  attacked  by  British  and  Indians, 
and  set  on  fire  ;  and  then  the  Americans  bursting 
out  scattered  both  the  fire  and  the  forces,  and 
performed  prodigies  of  valor. 

In  short,  it  was  a  Day  of  days  to  Dolty  and 
the  children,  and  when  sober  twilight  drew  on 
they  came  home  intoxicated  with  patriotism  and 
sight-seeing. 

On  her  way  home  Dolly  was  spied  out  by  her 
old  friend  Judge  Gridley,  who  always  delighted 
to  have  a  gossip  with  her. 

"Ha,  my  little  Dolly,  are  you  out  to-day?" 

"  To  be  sure,  sir,"  said  Dolly  ;  "  indeed  I'm  out. 
Oh,  hasn't  it  been  glorious !  I've  never  been  so 
happy  in  my  life.  I  never  heard  the  Declaration 
of  Independence  before." 

"Well,  and  what  do  you  think  of  it?"  asked 
the  Judge. 

"  I  never  heard  anything  like  it,"  said  Dolly. 
"  I  didn't  know  before  how  they  did  abuse  us, 


202  DOLLY'S  ''FOURTH." 

and  wasn't  it  grand  that  we  wouldn't  bear  it ! 
I  never  heard  anything  so  splendid  as  that  last 
part." 

"  You  would  have  made  a  good  soldier." 

"  If  I  were  a  man  I  would.  Only  think  of  it, 
Colonel  Davenport  fought  in  the  war !  I'm  so 
glad  we  can  see  one  man  that  did.  If  we  had 
lived  then,  I  know  my  papa  and  all  my  brothers 
would  have  fought ;  we  would  have  had  4  liberty 
or  death.' " 

Dolly  pronounced  these  words,  which  she  had 
heard  in  the  oration,  with  a  quivering  eagerness. 
The  old  Judge  gave  her  cheek  a  friendly  pinch. 

"  You'll  do,"  he  said ;  "  but  now  you  must  let 
Nabby  here  get  you  home  and  quiet  you  down, 
or  you  won't  sleep  all  night.  Good  by,  Pussy." 

And  so  went  off  Dolly's  Fourth  of  July. 

But  Hiel  made  an  evening  call  at  the  parsonage 
in  his  full  regimentals ;  and  stayed  to  a  late  hour 
unreproved.  There  were  occasions  when  even 
the  nine  o'clock  bell  did  not  send  a  young  fellow 
home.  This  appeared  to  be  one  of  them. 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

SUMMER  DAYS   IN   POGANUC. 

|O  passed  Dolly's  Fourth  of  July ;  a  con 
fused  dream  of  glory  and  patriotism,  of 
wonderful  sights  and  surprises — but, 
like  a  dream,  it  all  melted  away. 
New  England  life  was  too  practical  and  labor 
ious  to  give  more  than  one  day  to  holiday  per 
formances,  and  with  the  night  of  the  Fourth  the 
whole  pageant  vanished.  Kiel's  uniform,  with  its 
gold  lace  and  feathers,  returned  to  the  obscurity 
of  Mother  Jones's  pillow-cases  and  camphor- 
gum,  and  was  locked  away  in  secret  places ;  and 
Hiel  was  only  a  simple  stage-driver,  going  forth 
on  his  route  as  aforetime.  So  with  the  trappings 
of  the  Poganuc  Rangers — who  the  day  before  had 
glittered  like  so  many  knights-errant  in  the  front 
of  battle — all  were  laid  by  in  silent  waiting,  and 
the  Poganuc  Rangers  rose  at  four  o'clock  and 
put  on  their  working  clothes  and  cow-hide  shoes, 
and  were  abroad  with  their  oxen.  The  shoe 
maker  and  the  carpenter,  who  yesterday  were 
transfigured  in  blue  and  gold,  to-day  were  ham 
mering  shoe-soles  and  planing  boards  as  if  no 

203 


204 


SUMMER  DA  YS  IN  POGANUC. 


such  thing  had  happened.  In  the  shadows  of  the 
night  the  cannon  had  vanished  from  the  village 
green  and  gone  where  it  came  from ;  the  flag  on 
the  Court-house  was  furled,  and  the  world  of 
Poganuc  Center  was  again  the  same  busy,  literal, 
work-a-day  world  as  ever.  Only  Liph  Kings- 
bury,  who  had  burned  his  hand  with  gunpowder 
in  consequence  of  carrying  too  much  New  Eng 
land  rum  in  his  head,  and  one  or  two  boys,  who 
had  met  with  a  sprain  or  bruise  in  the  excite 
ment  of  the  day,  retained  any  lasting  memorials 
of  the  celebration. 

It  is  difficult  in  this  our  era  of  railroads  and 
steam  to  give  any  idea  of  the  depths  of  absolute 
stillness  and  repose  that  brooded  in  the  summer 
skies  over  the  wooded  hills  of  Poganuc.  No 
daily  paper  told  the  news  of  distant  cities.  Sum 
mer  traveling  was  done  in  stages,  and  was  long 
and  wearisome,  and  therefore  there  was  little  of 
that.  Everybody  staid  at  home,  and  expected  to 
stay  there  the  year  through.  A  journey  from 
Poganuc  to  Boston  or  New  York  was  more  of 
an  undertaking  in  those  days  than  a  journey  to 
Europe  is  in  ours.  Now  and  then  some  of  the 
great  square  houses  on  the  street  of  Poganuc 
Center  received  a  summer  visitor,  and  then 
everybody  in  town  knew  it  and  knew  all  about 
it.  The  visitor's  family,  rank,  position  in  life, 
probable  amount  of  property,  and  genealogy  to 


SUMMER  DA  YS  IN  POGANUC.  2O5 

remote  ancestors,  were  freely  discussed  and  set 
tled,  till  all  Poganuc  was  fully  informed.  The 
elect  circle  of  Poganuc  called  on  them,  and  made 
stately  tea-parties  in  their  honor,  and  these  enter 
tainments  pleasantly  rippled  the  placid  surface  of 
society.  But  life  went  on  there  with  a  sort  of  ' 
dreamy  stillness.  The  different  summer  flowers/I 
came  out  in  their  successive  ranks  in  the  neatly- 
kept  garden ;  roses  followed  peonies,  and  white 
lilies  came  and  went,  and  crimson  and  white 
phloxes  stood  ranged  in  midsummer  ranks,  and  the 
yellow  tribes  of  marigolds  brought  up  the  autum 
nal  season.  And  over  on  the  woody  hills  around 
the  town  the  spring  tints  deepened  and  grew 
dark  in  summer  richness,  and  then  began  breaking 
here  and  there  into  streaks  and  flecks  of  gold  and 
crimson,  foretelling  autumn.  And  there  were 
wonderful  golden  sunsets,  and  moonlight  nights 
when  the  street  of  Poganuc  seemed  overshot 
with  a  silver  network  of  tracery  like  the  arches 
of  some  cathedral.  The  doors  and  windows  of 
the  houses  stood  innocently  open  all  night  for  the 
moon  to  shine  in,  and  youths  and  maidens  walked 
and  wandered  and  sentimentalized  up  and  down 
the  long,  dewy  street,  and  nobody  seemed  to 
know  how  fast  the  short,  beautiful  summer  of 
those  regions  was  passing  away. 

As  to  Dolly,  summer  was  her  time  of  life  and 
joy;  but  it  was  not  by  any  means  a  joy  unmixed. 


206  SUMMER  DA  YS  IN  POGANUC. 

Dolly's  education  was  conducted  on  the  good 
old-fashioned  principle  that  everyone  must  do 
his  little  part  in  the  battle  of  life,  and  that  no 
body  was  pretty  enough  or  good  enough  to  be 
kept  merely  for  ornamental  purposes. 

She  was  no  curled  darling,  to  be  kept  on 
exhibition  in  white  dresses  and  broad  sashes, 
and  she  had  been  sedulously  instructed  in  the 
orthodoxy  of  Dr.  Watts,  that 

"  Satan  finds  some  mischief  still 
For  idle  hands  to  do." 

It  was  the  duty  of  the  good  house-mother  of 
those  days  to  be  so  much  in  advance  of  this  un 
pleasant  personage  that  there  should  be  no  room 
for  his  temptations.  Accordingly,  any  part  of  the 
numerous  household  tasks  of  the  Parsonage  that 
could  be  trusted  to  a  little  pair  of  hands  were 
turned  over  to  Dolly.  In  those  days  were  none 
of  the  thousand  conveniences  which  now  abridge 
the  labors  of  the  housekeeper.  Everything  came 
in  the  rough,  and  had  to  be  reduced  to  a  usable 
form  in  the  household. 

The  delicate,  smooth  white  salt  which  filled 
the  cellars  at  the  table  was  prepared  by  Dolly's 
manipulation  from  coarse  rock-salt  crystals,  which 
she  was  taught  to  wash  and  dry,  and  pound  and 
sift,  till  it  became  of  snowy  fineness;  and  quite 
a  long  process  it  was.  Then  there  were  spices 
to  be  ground,  and  there  was  coffee  to  be  browned 


SUMMER  DA  YS  IN  POGANUC.  207 

to  the  exact  and  beautiful  shade  dear  to  house 
hold  ideality ;  and  Dolly  could  do  that. 

Being  a  bright,  enterprising  little  body,  she 
did  not  so  much  object  to  these  processes,  which 
rather  interested  her,  but  her  very  soul  was 
wearied  within  her  at  the  drill  of  the  long  and 
varied  sewing  lessons  that  were  deemed  indis 
pensable  to  her  complete  education.  Pounding 
salt,  or  grinding  spice,  or  beating  eggs,  or  roast 
ing  coffee,  were  endurable ;  but  darning  stock 
ings  and  stitching  wristbands,  and  "  scratching " 
gathers,  were  a  weariness  unto  her  spirit.  And 
yet  it  was  only  at  the  price  of  penances  like  these, 
well  and  truly  performed,  that  Dolly's  golden 
own  hours  of  leisure  were  given. 

Most  of  her  household  tasks  could  be  per 
formed  in  the  early  morning  hours  before  school, 
and  after  school  Dolly  measured  the  height  of 
the  afternoon  sun  with  an  avaricious  eye.  Would 
there  be  time  enough  to  explore  the  woody 
hills  beyond  Poganuc  River  before  sundown? 
and  would  they  let  her  go? 

For  oh,  those  woods !  What  a  world  of  fairy 
land,  what  a  world  of  pure,  untold  joy  was  there 
to  Dolly!  When  she  found  her  face  fairly  set 
towards  them,  with  leave  to  stay  till  sundown, 
and  with  Spring  at  her  heels,  Dolly  was  as  bliss 
ful,  as  perfectly  happy,  as  a  child  can  ever  be 
made  by  any  one  thing. 


208  SUMMER  DA  YS  IN  POGANUC. 

The  sense  of  perfect  freedom,  the  wonder,  the 
curiosity,  the  vague  expectation  of  what  she 
might  find  or  see,  made  her  heart  beat  with  pleas 
ure.  First  came  the  race  down  through  the 
tall,  swaying  meadow-grass  and  white-hatted 
daisies  to  the  Poganuc  River — a  brown,  clear, 
gurgling  stream,  wide,  shallow,  and  garrulous, 
that  might  be  easily  crossed  on  mossy  stepping- 
stones.  Here  was  a  world  of  delight  to  Dolly. 
Skipping  from  stone  to  stone,  or  reclining  athwart 
some  great  rock  around  which  the  brown  waters 
rippled,  she  watched  the  little  fishes  come  and 
go,  darting  hither  and  thither  like  flecks  of  sil 
ver.  Down  under  the  shade  of  dark  hemlocks 
the  river  had  worn  a  deep  pool  where  the  trans 
lucent  water  lay  dark  and  still;  and  Dolly, 
climbing  carefully  and  quietly  to  the  rocky  side, 
could  lean  over  and  watch  the  slim,  straight 
pickerel,  holding  themselves  so  still  in  the  water 
that  the  play  of  their  gossamer  fins  made  no 
ripple, — so  still,  so  apparently  unwatchful  and 
drowsy,  that  Dolly  again  and  again  fancied  she 
might  slily  reach  down  her  little  hand  and  take 
one  out  of  the  water;  but  the  moment  the  rosy 
finger-tips  touched  the  wave,  with  a  flash,  like 
a  ray  of  light,  the  coveted  prize  was  gone. 
There  was  no  catching  a  pickerel  asleep,  how 
ever  quiet  he  might  appear.  Yet,  time  after 
time,  Dolly  tried  the  experiment,  burning  with 


SUMMER  DAYS  AV  FOGAXUC.  209 

the  desire  to  win  glory  among  the  boys  by 
bringing  home  an  actual  and  veritable  pickerel 
of  her  own  catching. 

But  there  were  other  beauties,  dryad  treas 
ures,  more  accessible.  The  woods  along  the 
moist  margin  of  the  river  were  full  of  the  pink 
and  white  azalea,  and  she  gathered  besides  the 
fragrant  blossoms  stores  of  what  were  called 
"honeysuckle  apples"  that  grew  upon  them — fleshy 
exudations  not  particularly  nice  in  flavor,  but 
crisp,  cool,  and  much  valued  among  children. 
There,  too,  were  crimson  wintergreen  berries, 
spicy  in  their  sweetness,  and  the  young,  tender 
leaves  of  the  wintergreen,  ranking  high  as  an 
eatable  dainty  among  little  folk.  Dolly's  basket 
was  sure  to  fill  rapidly  when  she  set  herself  to 
gathering  these  treasures,  and  the  sun  would  be 
almost  down  before  she  could  leave  the  en 
chanted  shades  of  the  wood  and  come  back  to 
real  life  again. 

But  Saturday  afternoon  was  a  sort  of  child's 
Paradise.  No  school  was  kept,  and  even  house 
hold  disciplinarians  recognized  a  reasonably  well- 
behaved  child's  right  to  a  Saturday  afternoon 
play-spell. 

"Now,  Dolly,"  had  Nabby  said  to  her  the 
week  before,  "you  be  sure  and  be  a  good  girl, 
and  do  up  all  your  stitching  and  get  the  stock 
ings  mended  afore  Saturday  comes,  and  then  we'll 


210  SUMMER  DAYS  IN  POGANUC. 

take  Saturday  afternoon  to  go  a-huckleberrying 
up  to  Pequannock  Rock ;  and  we'll  stop  and  see 
Mis'  Persis." 

This,  let  it  be  known,  was  a  programme  to 
awaken  Dolly's  ambition.  Pequannock  Rock  was 
a  distance  which  she  never  would  be  permitted  to 
explore  alone,  and  Mis'  Persis  was  to  her  imagin 
ation  a  most  interesting  and  stimulating  person 
age.  She  was  a  widow,  and  the  story  ran  that 
her  deceased  husband  had  been  an  Indian — a 
story  which  caused  Dolly  to  regard  her  with  a 
sort  of  awe,  connecting  her  with  Cotton  Mather's 
stories  of  war-whoops  and  scalping-knives,  and 
midnight  horrors  when  houses  were  burned  and 
children  carried  off  to  Canada. 

Nevertheless,  Mis'  Persis  was  an  inoffensive 
and  quite  useful  member  of  society.  She  had  her 
little  house  and  garden,  which  she  cultivated  with 
energy  and  skill.  She  kept  her  cow,  her  pig,  her 
chickens,  and  contrived  always  to  have  something 
to  sell  when  she  needed  an  extra  bit  of*  coin.  She 
was  versed  in  all  the  Indian  lore  of  roots  and 
herbs,  and  her  preparations  of  these  for  medicinal 
purposes  were  much  in  request.  Among  the 
farming  population  around,  Mis'  Persis  was  held 
in  respect  as  a  medical  authority,  and  her  opin 
ions  were  quoted  with  confidence.  She  was  also 
of  considerable  repute  among  the  best  families  of 
Poganuc  as  a  filler  of  gaps  such  as  may  often 


DAYS  IN  POGANUC.  2n 

occur  in  household  economy.  There  was  noth 
ing  wanted  .to  be  done  that  Mis'  Persis  could  not 
do.  She  could  wash,  or  iron,  or  bake,  or  brew,  or 
nurse  the  sick,  as  the  case  might  require.  She 
was,  in  fact,  one  of  the  reserved  forces  of  Poga- 
nuc  society.  She  was  a  member  of  Dr.  Cushing's 
church,  in  good  and  regular  standing,  and,  in  her 
way,  quite  devoted  to  her  minister  and  church, 
and  always  specially  affable  and  gracious  to  Dolly. 
This  particular  Saturday  afternoon  all  the  con 
stellations  were  favorable.  Dolly  was  pronounced 
a  good  girl,  her  week's  tasks  well  performed  ;  and 
never  were  dinner-dishes  more  rapidly  whirled 
into  place  than  were  Nabby's  on  that  same  after 
noon  ;  so  that  before  three  o'clock  the  pair  were 
well  on  their  way  to  the  huckleberry-field.  There, 
under  the  burning  August  sun,  the  ground  shot 
up  those  ardent  flower-flames  well  called  fire- 
lilies,  and  the  wild  roses  showered  their  deep  pink 
petals  as  they  pushed  through  the  thickets,  and 
the  huckleberry-bushes  bent  low  under  the  weight 
of  the  great  sweet  berries ;  and  Dolly's  cheeks 
were  all  a-flame,  like  the  fire-lilies  themselves, 
with  heat  and  enthusiasm  as  she  gathered  the 
purple  harvest  into  her  basket.  When  the  bas 
kets  were  filled  and  Dolly  had  gathered  fire-lilies 
and  wild  roses  more  than  she  knew  how  to  carry, 
it  was  proposed  to  stop  a  little  and  rest,  on  the 
homeward  route,  at  Mis'  Persis's  cottage. 


212  SUMMER  DAYS  IN  POGANUC. 

They  found  her  sitting  on  her  door-step,  knit 
ting.  A  little  wiry,  swart,  thin  woman  was  she, 
alert  in  her  movements,  and  quick  and  decided  of 
speech.  Her  black  eyes  had  in  them  a  latent 
fiery  gleam  that  suggested  all  the  while  that 
though  pleased  and  pleasant  at  the  present  mo 
ment  Mis'  Persis  might  be  dangerous  if  roused, 
and  Dolly  was  always  especially  conciliatory  and 
polite  in  her  addresses  to  her. 

On  the  present  occasion  Mis'  Persis  was  de 
lightfully  hospitable.  She  installed  Dolly  in  a 
small  splint-bottomed  rocking-chair  at  the  door, 
and  treated  her  to  a  cup  of  milk  and  a  crisp 
cooky. 

"  Why,  what  a  little  girl  you  are  to  be  so  far 
from  home!"  she  said. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  mind,"  said  Dolly;  "I  am  never 
tired.  I  could  pick  berries  all  day." 

"But,  sakes  alive!  ain't  you  afraid  of  snakes?" 
said  Mis'  Persis.  "Why,  my  sister  got  dread 
fully  bit  by  a  rattlesnake  when  she  wa'n't  much 
older  'n  you,"  and  Mis'  Persis  shook  her  head 
weirdly. 

"Oh,  dear  me!  Did  it  kill  her?"  said  Dolly, 
in  horror. 

"  No ;  she  lived  many  a  year  after,"  said  Mis' 
Persis,  with  a  reticent  air,  as  one  who  could  say 
more  if  properly  approached. 

"  Do,  do  tell  us  all  about  it ;  do,  Mis'  Persis.     I 


SUMMER  DAYS  tN  rOGANUC.  213 

never  saw  a  rattlesnake.  I  never  heard  one.  I 
shouldn't  know  what  it  was  if  I  saw  one." 

"  You  wouldn't  ever  forget  it  if  you  did,"  said 
Mis'  Persis,  oracularly. 

"Oh,  please,  Mis'  Persis,  do  tell  about  it,"  said 
Dolly,  eagerly.  "  Where  were  you,  and  how  did 
it  happen?" 

"Well,"  said  Mis'  Persis,  "it  was  when  I  was  a 
girl  and  lived  over  in  Danbury.  There's  where  I 
come  from.  My  sister  Polly  and  me,  we  went  out 
to  High  Ledge  one  afternoon  after  huckleberries, 
and  as  we  was  makin'  our  way  through  some 
low  bushes  we  heard  the  sharpest  noise,  jest  like 
a  locust  screechin',  right  under  foot,  and  jest 
then  Polly  she  screams  out,  '  Oh,  Sally,'  says  she, 
'  somethin's  bit  me !'  and  I  looked  down  and  saw 
a  great  rattlesnake  crawlin'  off  through  the 
bushes — a  great  big  fellow,  as  big  as  my  wrist. 

"  *  Well,'  says  I,  '  Polly,  I  must  get  you  home 
quick  as  I  can ;'  and  we  set  down  our  pails  and 
started  for  home.  It  was  a  broilin'  hot  day,  and 
we  hed  a'most  a  mile  to  walk,  and  afore  we 
got  home  I  hed  to  carry  her.  Her  tongue  was 
swelled  so  that  it  hung  out  of  her  mouth;  her 
neck  and  throat  was  all  swelled,  and  spotted  like 
the  snake.  Oh,  it  was  dreadful !  We  got  her 
into  the  house,  and  on  the  bed,  and  sent  for  the 
Indian  doctor — there  ain't  nobody  knows  about 
them  snake-bites  but  Indians.  Well,  he  come  and 


2i4  SUMMER  DAYS  IN  POGANUC. 

brought  a  bag  of  rattlesnake- weed  with  him, 
and  he  made  poultices  of  it  and  laid  all  over  her 
stomach  and  breast  and  hands  and  feet,  and  he 
made  a  tea  of  it  and  got  some  down  her  throat, 
and  kep'  a  feedin'  on  it  to  her  till  she  got  so 
she  could  swallow.  That's  the  way  she  got 
well." 

"  Oh,  Mis'  Persis,"  said  Dolly,  after  a  pause  of 
awe  and  horror,  "  what  is  rattlesnake-weed?" 

"  Why,  it's  a  worse  poison  than  the  snake-bite, 
and  it  kills  the  snake-poison  'cause  it's  stronger. 
Wherever  the  snakes  grow,  there  the  rattlesnake- 
weed  grows.  The  snakes  know  it  themselves, 
and  when  they  fight  and  bite  each  other  they  go 
and  eat  the  weed  and  it  cures  'em.  Here's  some 
of  it,"  she  said,  going  to  the  wall  of  the  room 
which  was  all  hung  round  with  dried  bunches 
of  various  herbs — "  here's  some  I  got  over  on 
Poganuc  Mountain,  if  you  ever  should  want  any." 

"Oh,  I  hope  I  never  shall,"  said  Dolly.  "Nab- 
by,  only  think !  What  if  there  had  been  a  snake 
in  those  bushes!" 

"  Well,  you  can  always  know,"  said  Mis'  Persis, 
"if  you  hear  somethin'  in  the  bushes  jest  like 
a  locust,  sharp  and  sudden — why,  you'd  better 
look  afore  you  set  your  foot  down.  But  we  don't 
hev  no  rattlesnakes  round  this  way.  I've  beat 
all  these  lots  through  and  never  seen  tail  of  one. 
This  'ere  ain't  one  o*  their  places;  over  to  Poga- 


SUMMER  DAYS  IN  POGANUC.  2i$ 

nuc  Mountain,  now, "a  body  has  to  take  care  how 
they  step." 

"  Do  you  suppose,  Mis'  Persis,"  said  Dolly, 
after  a  few  moments  of  grave  thought,  "  do  you 
suppose  God  made  that  weed  grow  on  purpose 
to  cure  rattlesnake  bites?" 

"  Of  course  he  did,"  said  Mis'  Persis,  as  decid 
edly  as  if  she  had  been  a  trained  theologian, 
"that's  what  rattlesnake-weed  was  made  fer; 
any  fool  can  see  that." 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  said  Dolly,  "  that  it  would 
have  been  better  not  to  have  the  snakes,  and 
then  people  wouldn't  be  bit  at  all — wouldn't  it  ?" 

"Oh,  we  don't  know  everything,"  said  Mis' 
Persis ;  "  come  to  that,  there's  a  good  many  things 
that  nobody  knows  what  they's  made  fer.  But 
the  Indians  used  to  say  there  was  some  cure 
grew  for  every  sickness  if  only  our  eyes  was 
opened  to  see  it,  and  I  expect  it's  so." 

"  Come,  Dolly,"  said  Nabby,  "  the  sun  is  gettin' 
pretty  low;  I  must  hurry  home  to  get  supper." 

Just  then  the  bell  of  the  distant  meeting-house 
gave  three  tolling  strokes,  whereat  all  the  three 
stopped  talking  and  listened  intently. 

Of  all  the  old  Puritan  customs  none  was  more 
thrillingly  impressive  than  this  solemn  announce 
ment  of  a  death,  and  this  deliberate  tolling  out 
of  the  years  of  a  finished  life. 

It  was  a  sound  to  which  every  one,  whether 


2I6  SUMMER  DAYS  IN  POGANUC. 

alone  or  in  company,  at  work  or  in  play,  stopped 
to  listen,  and  listened  with  a  nervous  thrill  of 
sympathy. 

"1  wonder  who  that  is?"  said  Nabby. 

"  Perhaps  it's  Lyddy  Bascom,"  said  Mis'  Persis, 
"she's  been  down  with  typhus  fever." 

The  bell  now  was  rapidly  tolling  one,  two, 
three,  four,  and  all  the  company  counted  eagerly 
up  to  sixteen,  seventeen,  when  Mis'  Persis  in 
terposed. 

"No,  'taint  Lyddy;  it's  goin'  on,"  and  they 
counted  and  counted,  and  still  the  bell  kept  toll 
ing  till  it  had  numbered  eighty.  "  It's  old  Granny 
Moss,"  said  Mis'  Persis  decisively;  "  she's  ben 
lyin'  low  some  time.  Well,  she's  in  heaven  now; 
the  better  for  her." 

"  Ah,  I'm  glad  she's  in  heaven,"  said  Dolly, 
with  a  shivering  sigh  ;  "  she's  all  safe  now." 

"  Oh,  yes,  she's  better  off,"  said  Nabby,  getting 
up  and  shaking  her  dress  as  if  to  shake  off  the 
very  thought  of  death.  A  warm,  strong,  glowing 
creature  she  was,  as  full  of  earth-life  as  the  fire- 
lilies  they  had  been  gathering.  She  seemed  a 
creature  made  for  this  world  and  its  present  uses, 
and  felt  an  animal  repulsion  to  the  very  thought 
of  death. 

"  Come,  Dolly,"  she  said,  briskly,  as  she  counted 
the  last  toll,  "we  can't  wait  another  minute." 

"Well,    Dolly,"   said    Mis'    Persis,    "tell   your 


SUMMER  DAYS  IN  POGANUC.  217 

mother  I'm  a  comin'  this  year  to  make  up  her 
candles  for  her,  and  the  work  sha'n't  cost  her  a 
cent.  I've  been  tryin'  out  a  lot  o'  bayberry  wax 
to  put  in  'em  and  make  'em  good  and  firm." 

"  I'm  sure  you  are  very  good,"  said  Dolly,  with 
instinctive  politeness. 

"  I  want  to  do  my  part  towards  supportin'  my 
minister,"  said  Mis'  Persis,' "  and  that's  what  I 
hev  to  give." 

"  I'll  tell  my  mother,  and  I  know  she'll  thank 
you,"  answered  Dolly,  as  they  turned  homeward. 

The  sun  was  falling  lower  and  lower  toward 
the  west.  The  long  shadows  of  the  two  danced 
before  them  on  the  dusty  road. 

After  walking  half  a  mile  they  came  to  a  stone 
culvert,  where  a  little  brawling  stream  crossed 
the  road.  The  edges  of  the  brook  were  fringed 
with  sweet-flag  blades  waving  in  the  afternoon 
light,  and  the  water  gurgled  and  tinkled  pleasantly 
among  the  stones. 

"  There,  Dolly,"  said  Nabby,  seating  herself  on 
a  dat  stone  by  the  brook,  "  I'm  goin'  to  rest  a 
minute,  and  you  can  find  some  of  them  sweet-flag 
'graters'  if  you  want."  This  was  the  blossom- 
bud  of  the  sweet  flag,  which  when  young  and 
tender  was  reckoned  a  delicacy  among  omnivo 
rous  children. 

"  Why,  Nabby,  I  thought  you  were  in  such  a 
hurry  to  get  home,"  said  Dolly,  gathering  tho 


218  SUMMER  DAYS  IN  POGANUC. 

blades  of  sweet-flag  and  looking  for  the  "grat 
ers." 

"  No  need  of  hurry,"  said  Nabby,  "the  sun's 
an  hour  and  a  half  high,"  and  she  leaned  over 
the  curb  of  the  bridge  and  looked  at  herself  in 
the  brook.  She  took  off  her  sun-bonnet  and 
fanned  herself  with  it.  Then  she  put  a  bright 
spotted  fire-lily  in  her  hair  and  watched  the  effect 
in  the  water.  It  certainly  was  a  brilliant  picture, 
framed  by  the  brown  stones  and  green  rushes  of 
the  brook. 

"  Oh,  Nabby,"  cried  Dolly,  "look!  There's  the 
stage  and  Hiel  coming  down  the  hill !" 

"  Sure  e-nough !"  said  Nabby,  in  a  tone  of 
proper  surprise,  as  if  she  had  expected  anything 
else  to  happen  on  that  road  at  that  time  of  the 
afternoon.  "As  true  as  I  live  and  breathe  it  is 
Hiel  and  the  stage,"  she  added,  "  and  not  a  crea 
ture  in  it.  Now,  we'll  get  a  ride  home." 

Nabby's  sun-bonnet  hung  on  her  arm  ;  her  hair 
fell  in  a  tangle  of  curls  around  her  flushed  cheeks 
as  she  stood  waiting  for  Hiel  to  come  up.  Alto 
gether  she  was  a  picture. 

That  young  man  took  in  the  points  of  the  view 
at  once  and  vowed  in  his  heart  that  Nabby  was 
the  handsomest  girl  upon  his  beat. 

"Waitin'  for  me  to  come  along?"  he  said  as 
he  drew  up. 

"Well,   you're   sort   o'    handy  now  and  then," 


SUMMER  DAYS  IN  POGANUC.  219 

said  Nabby.  "  We've  been  huckleberrying  all 
the  afternoon,  and  are  tired." 

Hiel  got  down  and  opened  the  stage  door 
and  helped  the  two  to  get  in  with  their  berries 
and  flowers. 

"  You  owe  me  one  for  this,"  said  Hiel  when 
he  handed  in  Nabby's  things. 

"  Well,  there's  one,"  said  Nabby,  laughing  and 
striking  him  across  the  eyes  with  her  bunch  of 
lilies. 

"  Never  mind,  miss.  I  shall  keep  the  account," 
said  Hiel;  and  he  gathered  up  the  reins,  resumed 
his  high  seat,  made  his  grand  entrance  into  Poga- 
nuc,  and  drew  up  at  the  parson's  door. 

For  a  week  thereafter  it  was  anxiously  dis 
cussed  in  various  circles  how  Nabby  and  Dolly 
came  to  be  in  that  stage.  Where  had  they  been  ? 
How  did  ft  happen?  The  obscurity  of  the  event 
kept  Hiel  on  the  brain  of  several  damsels  who 
had  nothing  better  to  talk  about. 

And  the  day  closed  with  a  royal  supper  of 
huckleberries  and  milk.  So  went  a  specimen 
number  of  Dolly's  Saturday  afternoons. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

GOING   "  A-CHESTNUTTING.  " 

]HE  bright  days  of  summer  were  a 
short-lived  joy  at  Poganuc.  One  hard 
ly  had  time  to  say  "  How  beautiful !" 
before  it  was  past.  By  September 
came  the  frosty  nights  that  turned  the  hills  into 
rainbow  colors  and  ushered  in  autumn  with  her 
gorgeous  robes  of  golden-rod  and  purple  asters. 
There  was  still  the  best  of  sport  for  the  children, 
however ;  for  the  frost  ripened  the  shag-bark 
walnuts  and  opened  the  chestnut  burrs,  and  the 
glossy  brown  chestnuts  dropped  down  among 
the  rustling  yellow  leaves  and  the  beds  of  fringed 
blue  gentians. 

One  peculiarity  of  the  Puritan  New  England 
regime  is  worthy  of  special  notice,  and  that  is 
the  generosity  and  liberality  of  its  dealing  in 
respect  to  the  spontaneous  growths  of  the  soil. 
The  chestnuts,  the  hickory-nuts,  the  butternuts — • 
no  matter  upon  whose  land  they  grew — were 
free  to  whoever  would  gather  them.  The  girls 
and  boys  roamed  at  pleasure  through  the  woods 
and  picked,  unmolested,  wherever  they  could  find 


GOING  "A-CHESTNUTTING."  221 

the  most  abundant  harvest.  In  like  manner  the 
wild  fruits — grapes,  strawberries,  huckleberries, 
and  cranberries — were  for  many  years  free  to 
the  earliest  comer.  This  is  the  more  to  be  re 
marked  in  a  community  where  life  was  pecu 
liarly  characterized  by  minute  economy,  where 
everything  had  its  carefully  ascertained  money- 
value.  Every  board,  nail,  brad,  every  drop  of 
paint,  every  shingle,  in  house  or  barn,  was 
counted  and  estimated.  In  making  bargains  and 
conducting  domestic  economies,  there  was  the 
minutest  consideration  of  the  money-value  of 
time,  labor  and  provision.  And  yet  their  rigidly 
parsimonious  habit  of  life  presented  this  one  re 
markable  exception,  of  certain  quite  valuable 
spontaneous  growths  left  unguarded  and  un 
appropriated. 

Our  Fathers  came  to  New  England  from  a 
country  where  the  poor  man  was  everywhere 
shut  out  from  the  bounties  of  nature  by  game- 
laws  and  severe  restrictions.  Though  his  children 
might  be  dying  of  hunger  he  could  not  catch 
a  fish,  or  shoot  a  bird,  or  snare  the  wild  game 
of  the  forest,  without  liability  to  arrest  as  a 
criminal ;  he  could  not  gather  the  wild  fruits  of 
the  earth  without  danger  of  being  held  a  tres 
passer,  and  risking  fine  and  imprisonment.  When 
the  Fathers  took  possession  of  the  New  England 
forest  it  was  in  the  merciful  spirit  of  the  Mosaic 


222  GOING   "A-CHESTNUTT1NG? 

law,  which  commanded  that  something  should 
always  be  left  to  be  gathered  by  the  poor. 
From  the  beginning  of  the  New  England  life 
till  now  there  have  been  poor  people,  widows 
and  fatherless  children,  who  have  eked  out  their 
scanty  living  by  the  sale  of  the  fruits  and  nuts 
which  the  custom  of  the  country  allowed  them 
freely  to  gather  on  other  people's  land. 

Within  the  past  fifty  years,  while  this  country 
has  been  filling  up  with  foreigners  of  a  different 
day  and  training,  these  old  customs  have  been 
passing  away.  Various  fruits  and  nuts,  once  held 
free,  are  now  appropriated  by  the  holders  of 
the  soil  and  made  subject  to  restriction  and  cul 
tivation. 

In  the  day  we  speak  of,  however,  all  the 
forest  hills  around  Poganuc  were  a  free  nut- 
orchard,  and  one  of  the  chief  festive  occasions 
of  the  year,  in  the  family  at  the  Parsonage, 
was  the  autumn  gathering  of  nuts,  when  Dr. 
Gushing  took  the  matter  in  hand  and  gave  his 
mind  to  it. 

On  the  present  occasion,  having  just  finished 
four  sermons  which  completely  cleared  up  and 
reconciled  all  the  difficulties  between  the  doc 
trines  of  free  agency  and  the  divine  decrees,  the 
Doctor  was  naturally  in  good  spirits.  He  de 
clared  to  his  wife,  "  There !  my  dear,  that  subject 
is  disposed  of.  I  never  before  succeeded  in 


GOING   "A-CHESTNUTTINC:\  22^ 

really  clearing  it  up ;  but  now  the  matter  is  done 
for  all  time."  Having  thus  wound  up  the  sun 
and  moon,  and  arranged  the  courses  of  the  stars 
in  celestial  regions,  the  Doctor  was  as  alert  and 
light-hearted  as  any  boy,  in  his  preparations  for 
the  day's  enterprise. 

11  Boys,"  he  said,  "  we'll  drive  over  to  Pcganuc 
Ledge;  up  there  are  those  big  chestnuts  that 
grow  right  out  of  the  rock  ;  there's  no  likelihood 
of  anybody's  getting  them— but  I  noticed  the 
other  day  they  were  hanging  full." 

"  Oh,  father,  those  trees  are  awful  to  climb." 

"  Of  course  they  are.  I  won't  let  you  boys 
try  to  climb  them — mind  that;  but  I'll  go  up 
myself  and  shake  them,  and  you  pick  up  under 
neath." 

No  Highland  follower  ever  gloried  more  in 
the  physical  prowess  of  his  chief  than  the  boys 
in  that  of  their  father.  Was  there  a  tree  he  could 
not  climb — a  chestnut;  or  walnut,  or  butternut, 
however  exalted  in  fastnesses  of  the  rock,  that  he 
could  not  shake  down  ?  They  were  certain  there 
was  not.  The  boys  rushed  hither  and  thither, 
with  Spring  barking  at  their  heels,  leaving  open 
doors  and  shouting  orders  to  each  other  con 
cerning  the  various  pails  and  baskets  necessary 
to  contain  their  future  harvest.  Mrs.  Gushing 
became  alarmed  for  the  stability  of  her  household 
arrangements. 


224  GOING   "A-CHESTNUTTING." 

"  Now,  father,  please  don't  take  all  my  baskets 
this  time,"  pleaded  she,  "  just  let  me  arrange — 

"  Well,  my  dear,  have  it  all  your  own  way ; 
only  be  sure  to  provide  things  enough." 

"  Well,  surely,  they  can  all  pick  in  pails  or. 
cups,  and  then  they  can  be  emptied  into  a  bag," 
said  Mrs.  Gushing.  "  You  won't  get  more  than 
a  bushel,  certainly." 

"  Oh  yes,  we  shall — three  or  four  bushels,"  said 
Will,  triumphantly. 

"  There's  no  end  of  what  we  shall  get  when 
father  goes,"  said  Bob.  "  Why,  you've  no  idea 
how  he  rattles  'em  down." 

Meanwhile  Mrs.  Gushing  and  Nabby  were 
packing  a  hamper  with  bread-and-butter,  and 
tea-rusks,  and  unlimited  ginger-bread,  and  dough 
nuts  crisp  and  brown,  and  savory  ham,  and  a 
bottle  of  cream,  and  coffee  all  ready  for  boiling 
in  the  pot,  and  tea-cups  and  spoons — everything, 
in  short,  ready  for  a  gipsy  encampment,  while  the 
parson's  horse  stood  meekly  absorbing  an  extra 
ration  of  oats  in  that  contemplative  attitude  which 
becomes  habitual  to  good  family  horses,  espe 
cially  of  the  ministerial  profession.  Mrs.  Gushing 
and  the  Doctor,  with  Nabby  and  Dolly,  and  the 
hamper  and  baskets,  formed  the  load  of  the  light 
wagon,  while  Will  and  Bob  were  both  mounted 
upon  "the  colt" — a  scrawny,  ewe-necked  beast, 
who  had  long  outgrown  this  youthful  designation. 


GOING  "A-CHESTNUTTING:*  22$ 

The  boys,  however,  had  means  best  known  to 
themselves  of  rousing  his  energies  and  keeping 
him  ahead  of  the  wagon  in  a  convulsive  canter, 
greatly  to  the  amusement  of  Nabby  and  Dolly. 

Our  readers  would  be  happy  could  they  fol 
low  the  party  along  the  hard,  stony  roads,  up 
the  winding  mountain-paths,  where  the  trees, 
flushing  in  purple,  crimson  and  gold,  seemed  to 
shed  light  on  their  paths;  where  beds  of  fringed 
gentian  seemed,  as  the  sunlight  struck  them,  to 
glow  like  so  many  sapphires,  and  every  leaf  of 
every  plant  seemed  to  be  passing  from  the  green 
of  summer  into  some  quaint  new  tint  of  autum 
nal  splendor.  Here  and  there  groups  of  pines 
or  tall  hemlocks,  with  their  heavy  background 
of  solemn  green,  threw  out  the  flamboyant  tra 
cery  of  the  forest  in  startling  distinctness.  Here 
and  there,  as  they  passed  a  bit  of  low  land,  the 
swamp  maples  seemed  really  to  burn  like  crim 
son  flames,  and  the  clumps  of  black  alder,  with 
their  vivid  scarlet  berries,  exalted  the  effect  of 
color  to  the  very  highest  and  most  daring  result. 
No  artist  ever  has  ventured  to  put  on  canvas 
the  exact  copy  of  the  picture  that  nature  paints 
for  us  every  year  in  the  autumn  months.  There 
are  things  the  Almighty  Artist  can  do  that  no 
earthly  imitator  can  more  than  hopelessly  ad 
mire. 

As   to  Dolly,  she   was   like   a   bird   held   in   a 


226  GOING   "A-CBESTNUTTING." 

leash,  full  of  exclamations  and  longings,  now  to 
pick  "  those  leaves,"  and  then  to  gather  "  those 
gentians,"  or  to  get  "those  lovely  red  berries;" 
but  was  forced  to  resign  herself  to  be  car 
ried  by. 

"  They  would  all  fade  before  the  day  is 
through,"  said  her  mother ;  "  wait  till  we  come 
home  at  night,  and  then,  if  you're  not  too  tired, 
you  may  gather  them."  Dolly  sighed  and  re 
signed  herself  to  wait. 

We  shall  not  tell  the  joys  of  the  day:  how 
the  Doctor  climbed  the  trees  victoriously,  how 
the  brown,  glossy  chestnuts  flew  down  in  showers 
as  he  shook  the  limbs,  and  how  fast  they  were 
gathered  by  busy  fingers  below.  Not  merely 
chestnuts,  but  walnuts,  and  a  splendid  butternut 
tree,  that  grew  in  the  high  cleft  of  a  rocky 
ledge,  all  were  made  to  yield  up  their  treasures 
till  the  bags  were  swelled  to  a  most  auspicious 
size. 

Then  came  the  nooning,  when  the  boys  delight 
ed  in  making  a  roaring  hot  fire,  and  the  coffee 
was  put  on  to  boil,  and  Nabby  spread  the  table 
cloth  and  unpacked  the  hamper  on  a  broad,  flat 
rock  around  which  a  white  foam  of  moss 
formed  a  soft,  elastic  seat. 

The  Doctor  was  most  entertaining,  and  related 
stories  of  the  fishing  and  hunting  excursions  of 
his  youth,  of  the  trout  he  had  caught  and  the 


CHESTNUTTING. 

"How  the  Doctor  climbed  the  trees  victoriously,  Atnv  the  bro~Mn. 
glossy  chestnuts  flew  down  in  showers.  .  .  .  And  Nabby 
unpacked  the  hantfer  on  a  broad,  flat  rock" — p.  226. 


GOING  "A-CHESTNUTNING."  227 

ducks  he  had  shot.  The  boys  listened  with  ears 
ot  emulation,  and  Dolly  sighed  to  think  she  never 
was  to  be  a  man  and  do  all  these  fine  things  that 
her  brothers  were  going  to  do. 

But  in  the  midst  of  all  came  Abel  Moss,  a 
hard-visaged  farmer  from  one  of  the  upland 
farms,  who,  seeing  the  minister's  wagon  go  by, 
had  come  to  express  his  mind  to  him  concerning  a 
portion  of  his  last  Sunday's  sermon ;  and  the 
Doctor,  who  but  a  moment  before  had  thought 
only  of  trout  and  wild  ducks,  sat  down  by  the 
side  of  Abel  on  a  fragment  of  rock  "and  began 
explaining  to  him  the  difference  between  the  laws 
of  matter  and  the  laws  of  mind  in  moral  govern 
ment,  and  the  difference  between  divine  sover 
eignty  as  applied  to  matter  and  to  mind. 

The  children  wandered  off  during  the  discus 
sion,  which  lasted  some  time  ;  but  when  the 
western  sunbeams,  sloping  through  the  tree- 
trunks,  warned  them  that  it  was  time  to  return, 
the  Doctor's  wagon  might  have  been  seen 
coming  down  the  rough  slope  of  the  mountain. 

"  There,  my  dear,  I've  set  Moss  right,"  he  said. 
"  There  was  a  block  in  his  wheels  that  I've  taken 
out.  I  think  he'll  go  all  straight  now.  Moss  has 
a  good  head  ;  when  he  once  sees  a  thing,  he  does 
see  it, — and  I  think  I've  clinched  the  nail  with 
him  to-day." 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

DOLLY'S  SECOND  CHRISTMAS. 

]NCE  more  had  Christmas  come  round  in 
Poganuc ;  once  more  the  Episcopal 
church  was  being  dressed  with  ground- 
pine  and  spruce;  but  this  year  economy 
had  begun  to  make  its  claims  felt.  An  illumina 
tion  might  do  very  well  to  open  a  church,  but 
there  were  many  who  said  "  to  what  purpose  is 
this  waste?"  when  the  proposition  was  made  to 
renew  it  yearly.  Consequently  it  was  resolved 
to  hold  the  Christmas  Eve  service  with  only  that 
necessary  amount  of  light  which  would  enable 
the  worshipers  to  read  the  prayers. 

The  lines  in  Poganuc  were  now  drawn.  The 
crowd  who  flock  after  a  new  thing  had  seen  the 
new  thing,  and  the  edge  of  curiosity  was  some 
what  dulled.  Both  ministers  had  delivered  their 
Christmas  sermons,  to  the  satisfaction  of  them 
selves  and  their  respective  flocks,  and  both  con 
gregations  had  taken  the  direction  of  their 
practical  course  accordingly. 

On   this   Christmas  Eve,  therefore,  Dolly  was 

228 


DOLLY'S  SECOND   C11IUSTMAS.  229 

not  racked  and  torn  with  any  violent  temptation 
to  go  over  to  the  church,  but  went  to  bed  at 
her  usual  hour  with  a  resigned  and  quiet  spirit. 
She  felt  herself  a  year  older,  and  more  than  a 
year  wiser,  than  when  Christmas  had  first  dawned 
upon  her  consciousness. 

We  have  seen  that  the  little  maiden  was  a  most 
intense  and  sympathetic  partisan,  and  during  the 
political  discussions  of  the  past  year  she  had 
imbibed  the  idea  that  the  Episcopal  party  were 
opposed  to  her  father.  Nay,  she  had  heard  with 
burning  indignation  that  Mr.  Simeon  Coan  had 
said  that  her  father  was  not  a  regularly  ordained 
minister,  and  therefore  had  no  right  to  preach  or 
administer  ordinances.  Dolly  had  no  idea  of 
patronizing  by  her  presence  people  who  ex 
pressed  such  opinions.  Whoever  and  whatever 
in  the  world  might  be  in  error,  Dolly  was  sure 
her  father  never  could  be  in  the  wrong,  and  went 
to  sleep  placidly  in  that  belief. 

It  was  not  altogether  pleasant  to  Mrs.  Gushing 
to  receive  a  message  from  Mis'  Persis  that  she 
would  come  and  make  up  her  candles  for  her  on 
the  25th  of  December.  In  a  figurative  and 
symbolical  point  of  view,  the  devoting  that  day  • 
to  the  creation  of  the  year's  stock  of  light  might 
have  seemed  eminently  appropriate.  But  the 
making  of  so  many  candles  involved  an  amount 
of  disagreeable  particulars  hard  to  conceive  in 


230 


DOLLY'S  SECOND   CHRISTMAS. 


our  days,  when  gas  and  kerosene  make  the 
lighting  of  houses  one  of  the  least  of  cares. 

In  the  times  we  speak  of,  candle-making  for  a 
large  household  was  a  serious  undertaking,  and 
the  day  devoted  to  it  was  one  that  any  child 
would  remember  as  an  unlucky  one  for  childish 
purposes  of  enjoyment,  seven-fold  worse  in  its 
way  even  than  washing-day.  Mrs.  Gushing  still 
retained  enough  of  the  habits  of  her  early  educa 
tion  to  have  preferred  a  quiet  day  for  her 
Christmas.  She  would  willingly  have  spent  it  in 
letter-writing,  reading  and  meditation,  but  when 
Mis'  Persis  gave  her  time  and  labor  it  seemed 
only  fair  to  allow  her  to  choose  her  own  day. 

So,  upon  this  Christmas  morning,  Mis'  Persis 
appeared  on  the  ground  by  day-dawn.  A  great 
kettle  was  slung  over  the  kitchen  fire,  in  which 
cakes  of  tallow  were  speedily  liquefying ;  a  frame 
was  placed  quite  across  the  kitchen  to  sustain 
candle-rods,  with  a  train  of  boards  underneath  to 
catch  the  drippings,  and  Mis'  Persis,  with  a  brow 
like  one  of  the  Fates,  announced:  "Now  we 
can't  hev  any  young  'uns  in  this  kitchen  to-day  ;" 
and  Dolly  saw  that  there  was  no  getting  any 
attention  in  that  quarter. 

Mis'  Persis,  in  a  gracious  Saturday  afternoon 
mood,  sitting  in  her  own  tent-door  dispensing 
hospitalities  and  cookies,  was  one  thing ;  but 
Mis'  Persis  in  her  armor,  with  her  loins  girded 


DOLLY'S  SECOND   CHRISTMAS. 


231 


and    a   hard    day's   work   to    be    conquered,  vas 
quite  another:  she  was  terrible  as  Minerva  with.' 
her  helmet  on. 

Dinner-baskets  for  all  the  children  were  hastily 
packed,  and  they  were  sent  off  to  school  with 
the  injunction  on  no  account  to  show  their  faces 
about  the  premises  till  night.  The  Doctor, 
warned  of  what  was  going  on,  retreated  to  his 
study  at  the  top  of  the  house,  where,  serenely 
above  the  lower  cares  of  earth,  he  sailed  off 
into  President  Edwards's  treatise  on  the  nature 
of  true  virtue,  concerning  which  he  was  pre 
paring  a  paper  to  read  at  the  next  Association 
meeting. 

That  candles  were  a  necessity  of  life  he  was 
well  convinced,  and  by  faith  he  dimly  accepted 
the  fact  that  one  day  in  the  year  the  whole  house 
was  to  be  devoted  and  given  up  to  this  manu 
facture;  and  his  part  of  the  business,  as  he  un 
derstood  it,  was,  clearly,  to  keep  himself  out  of 
the  way  till  it  was  over. 

"  There  won't  be  much  of  a  dinner  at  home, 
anyway,"  said  Nabby  to  Dolly,  as  she  packed 
her  basket  with  an  extra  doughnut  or  two. 
"  I've  got  to  go  to  church  to-day,  'cause  I'm 
one  of  the  singers,  and  your  ma'll  be  busy  waitin* 
on  her ;  so  we  shall  just  have  a  pick-up  dinner, 
and  you  be  sure  not  to  come  home  till  night; 
by  that  time  it'll  be  all  over." 


232  DOLLY'S  SECOND   CHRISTMAS. 

Dolly  trotted  off  to  school  well  content  with 
the  prospect  before  her :  a  nooning,  with  leave 
to  play  with  the  girls  at  school,  was  not  an  un 
pleasant  idea. 

But  the  first  thing  that  saluted  her  on  her 
arrival  was  that  Bessie  Lewis — her  own  dear, 
particular  Bessie — was  going  to  have  a  Christ 
mas  party  at  her  house  that  afternoon,  and  was 
around  distributing  invitations  right  and  left 
among  the  scholars  with  a  generous  freedom. 

"  We  are  going  to  have  nuts,  and  raisins,  and 
cake,  and  mottoes,"  said  Bessie,  with  artless 
triumph.  The  news  of  this  bill  of  fare  spread 
like  wildfire  through  the  school. 

Never  had  a  party  been  heard  of  which  con 
templated  such  a  liberal  entertainment,  for  the 
rising  generation  of  Poganuc  were  by  no  means 
blast  with  indulgence,  and  raisins  and  almonds 
stood  for  grandeur  with  them.  But  these  mottoes, 
which  consisted  of  bits  of  confectionery  wrapped 
up  in  printed  couplets  of  sentimental  poetry, 
were  an  unheard-of  refinement.  Bessie  assured 
them  that  her  papa  had  sent  clear  to  Boston 
for  them,  and  whoever  got  one  would  have  his 
or  her  fortune  told  by  it. 

The  school  was  a  small,  select  one,  comprising 
the  children  of  all  ages  from  the  best  families 
of  Poganuc.  Both  boys  and  girls,  and  all  with 
great  impartiality,  had  been  invited.  Miss  Tit- 


DOLLY'S  SECOND   CHRISTMAS.  233 

come,  the  teacher,  quite  readily  promised  to  dis 
miss  at  three  o'clock  that  afternoon  any  scholar 
who  should  bring  a  permission  from  parents, 
and  the  children  nothing  doubted  that  such  a 
permission  was  obtainable. 

Dolly  alone  saw  a  cloud  in  the  horizon.  She 
had  been  sent  away  with  strict  injunctions  not 
to  return  till  evening,  and  children  in  those  days 
never  presumed  to  make  any  exceptions  in  obey 
ing  an  absolute  command  of  their  parents. 

"  But,  of  course,  you  will  go  home  at  noon 
and  ask  your  mother,  and  of  course  she'll  let 
you:  won't  she,  girls?"  said  Bessie. 

"Oh,  certainly;  of  course  she  will,"  said  all  the 
older  girls,  "  because  you  know  a  party  is  a  thing 
that  don't  happen  every  day,  and  your  mother 
would  think  it  strange  if  you  didnt  come  and  ask 
her."  So  too  thought  Miss  Titcome,  a  most 
exemplary,  precise  and  proper  young  lady,  who 
always  moved  and  spoke  and  thought  as  became 
a  schoolmistress,  so  that,  although  she  was  in 
reality  only  twenty  years  old,  Dolly  considered 
her  as  a  very  advanced  and  ancient  person — if 
anything,  a  little  older  than  her  father  and 
mother. 

Even  she  was  of  opinion  that  Dolly  might 
properly  go  home  to  lay  a  case  of  such  impor 
tance  before  her  mother;  and  so  Dolly  rushed 
home  after  the  morning  school  was  over,  running 


234  DOLLY'S  SECOND   CHRISTMAS. 

with  all  her  might  and  increasing-  in  me-ntal  ex 
citement  as  she  ran.  Her  bonnet  blew  off  upon 
her  shoulders,  her  curls  flew  behind  her  in  the 
wind,  and  she  most  inconsiderately  used  up  the 
little  stock  of  breath  that  she  would  want  to  set 
her  cause  in  order  before  her  mother. 

Just  here  we  must  beg  any  mother  and  house 
keeper  to  imagine  herself  in  the  very  midst  of  the 
most  delicate,  perplexing  and  laborious  of  house 
hold  tasks,  when  interruption  is  most  irksome 
and  perilous,  suddenly  called  to  discuss  with  a 
child  some  new  and  startling  proposition  to  which 
at  the  moment  she  cannot  even  give  a  thought. 

Mrs.  Gushing  was  sitting  in  the  kitchen  with 
Mis'  Persis,  by  the  side  of  a  melted  caldron  of 
tallow,  kept  in  a  fluid  state  by  the  heat  of  a  port 
able  furnace  on  which  it  stood.  A  long  train  of 
half-dipped  candles  hung  like  so  many  stalactites 
from  the  frames  on  which  the  rods  rested,  and 
the  two  were  patiently  dipping  set  after  set  and 
replacing  them  again  on  the  frame. 

"As  sure  as  I'm  alive!  if  there  isn't  Dolly 
Gushing  comin'  back  —  runnin'  and  tearin'  like 
a  wild  cretur',"  said  Mis'  Persis.  "  She'll  be  in 
here  in  a  minute  and  knock  everything  down!" 

Mrs.  Gushing  looked,  and  with  a  quick  move 
ment  stepped  to  the  door. 

"Dolly!  what  are  you  here  for?  Didn't  I  tell 
you  not  to  come  home  this  noon?" 


DOLLY^S  SECOND   CHRISTMAS.  235 

"  Oh,  Mamma,  there's  going  to  be  a  party  at 
General  Lewis's — Bessie's  party — and  the  girls 
are  all  going,  and  mayn't  I  go  ?" 

"  No,  you  can't ;  it's  impossible,"  said  her 
mother.  "Your  best  dress  isn't  ready  to  wear, 
and  there's  nobody  can  spend  time  to  get  you 
ready.  Go  right  back  to  school." 

"  But,  Mamma ' 

"  Go !"  said  her  mother,  in  the  decisive  tojie 
that  mothers  used  in  the  old  days,  when  arguing 
with  children  was  not  a  possibility. 

"  What's  all  this  about?"  asked  the  Doctor, 
looking  out  of  the  door. 

"  Why,"  said  Mrs.  Gushing,  "  there's  going  to 
be  a  party  at  General  Lewis's,  and  Dolly  is  wild 
to  go.  It's  just  impossible  for  me  to  attend  to 
her  now." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  want  her  intimate  at  Lewis's;  he's 
a  Democrat  and  an  Episcopalian,"  said  the  Doc 
tor,  and  immediately  he  came  out  behind  his  wife. 

"  There ;  run  away  to  school,  Dolly,"  he  said. 
"Don't  trouble  your  mother;  you  don't  want  to 
go  to  parties ;  why,  it's  foolish  to  think  of  it. 
Run  away  now,  and  don't  think  any  more  about 
it — there's  a  good  girl!" 

Dolly  turned  and  went  back  to  school,  the 
tears  freezing  on  her  check  as  she  went.  As  for 
not  thinking  any  more  about  it — that  was 
impossible. 


236  DOLLVS   SECOND    CHRISTMAS. 

When  three  o'clock  came,  scholar  after  scholar 
rose  and  departed,  until  at  last  Dolly  was  the 
only  one  remaining  in  the  school-room. 

Miss  Titcome  made  no  comments  upon  the 
event,  but  so  long  as  one  scholar  was  left  she 
conscientiously  persisted  in  her  duties  towards 
her.  She  heard  Dolly  read  and  spell,  and  then 
occupied  herself  with  writing  a  letter,  while 
Dojly  sewed  upon  her  allotted  task.  Dolly's 
work  was  a  linen  sheet,  which  was  to  be  turned. 
It  was  to  be  sewed  up  on  one  side  and  ripped  out 
on  the  other — two  processes  which  seemed  espe 
cially  dreary  to  Dolly,  and  more  particularly  so 
now,  when  she  was  sitting  in  the  deserted  school 
room.  Tears  fell  and  fell  on  the  long,  uninterest 
ing  seam  which  seemed  to  stretch  on  and  on 
hopelessly  before  her ;  and  she  thought  of  all  the 
other  children  playing  at  "  oats,  pease,  beans  and 
barley  grows,"  of  feasting  on  almonds  and  raisins, 
and  having  their  fortunes  told  by  wonderful 
mottoes  bought  in  Boston.  The  world  looked 
cold  and  dark  and  dreary  to  Dolly  on  this  her 
second  Christmas.  She  never  felt  herself  in 
jured;  she  never  even  in  thought  questioned 
that  her  parents  were  doing  exactly  right  by 
her — she  only  felt  that  just  here  and  now  the 
right  thing  was  very  disagreeable  and  very  hard 
to  bear. 

When  Dolly  came  home  that  night  the  coast 


DOLLY'S  SECOND   CHRISTMAS. 


237 


was  clear,  and  the  candles  were  finished  and 
put  away  to  harden  in  a  freezing  cold  room; 
the  kitchen  was  once  more  restored,  and  Nabby 
bustled  about  getting  supper  as  if  nothing  had 
happened. 

"  I  really  feel  sorry  about  poor  little  Dolly," 
said  Mrs.  Gushing  to  her  husband. 

"  Do  you  think  she  cared  much?"  asked  the 
Doctor,  looking  as  if  a  new  possibility  had  struck 
his  mind. 

"  Yes,  indeed,  poor  child,  she  went  away  cry 
ing;  but  what  could  I  do  about  it?  I  couldn't 
stop  to  dress  her." 

"  Wife,  we  must  take  her  somewhere  to  make 
up  for  it,"  said  the  Doctor. 

Just  then  the  stage  stopped  at  the  door  and 
a  bundle  from  Boston  was  handed  in.  Dolly's 
tears  were  soon  wiped  and  dried,  and  her  mourn 
ing  was  turned  into  joy  when  a  large  jointed 
London  doll  emerged  from  the  bundle,  the 
Christmas  gift  of  her  grandmother  in  Boston. 

Dolly's  former  darling  was  old  and  shabby, 
bnt  this  was  of  twice  the  size,  and  with  cheeks 
exhibiting  a  state  of  the  most  florid  health. 

Besides  this  there  was,  as  usual  in  Grand 
mamma's  Christmas  bundle,  something  for  every 
member  of  the  family ;  and  so  the  evening  went 
on  festive  wings. 

Poor  little  Dolly !  only  that  afternoon  she  had 


23g  DOLLY'S  SECOND   CHRISTMAS. 

watered  with  her  tears  the  dismal  long  straight 
seam,  which  stretched  on  before  her  as  life  some 
times  does  to  us,  bare,  disagreeable  and  cheerless. 
She  had  come  home  crying,  little  dreaming  of 
the  joy  just  approaching;  but  before  bed-time  no 
cricket  in  the  hearth  was  cheerier  or  more  noisy. 
She  took  the  new  dolly  to  bed  with  her,  and 
could  hardly  sleep,  for  the  excitement  of  her 
company. 

Meanwhile,  Kiel  had  brought  the  Doctor  a 
message  to  the  following  effect : 

"  I  was  drivin'  by  Tim  Hawkins's,  and  Mis' 
Hawkins  she  comes  out  and  says  they're  goin'  to 
hev  an  apple-cuttin'  there  to-morrow  night,  and 
she  would  like  to  hev  you  and  Mis'  Cushin'  and 
all  your  folks  come — Nabby  and  all." 

The  Doctor  and  his  lady  of  course  assented. 

"  Wai,  then,  Doctor— ef  it's  all  one  to  you," 
continued  Hiel,  "  I'd  like  to  take  ye  over  in  my 
new  double  sleigh.  I've  jest  got  two  new  strings 
o'  bells  up  from  Boston,  and  I  think  we'll  sort  o' 
make  the  snow  fly.  S'pose  there'd  be  no  objec 
tions  to  takin'  my  mother  long  with  ye?" 

"  Oh,  Hiel,  we  shall  be  delighted  to  go  in 
company  with  your  mother,  and  we're  ever  so 
much  obliged  to  you,"  said  Mrs.  Gushing. 

"  Wai,  I'll  be  round  by  six  o'clock,"  said  Hiel. 

"Then,  wife,"  said  the  Doctor,  "  we'll  take 
Dolly,  and  make  up  for  the  loss  of  her  party." 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

THE  APPLE-BEE. 

1UNCTUALLY  at  six  o'clock  Hiel's 
two-horses,  with  all  their  bells  jingling, 
stood  at  the  door  of  the  parsonage, 
whence  Tom  and  Bill,  who  had  been 
waiting  with  caps  and  mittens  on  for  the  last  half 
hour,  burst  forth  with  irrepressible  shouts  of 
wrelcome. 

"  Take  care  now,  boys ;  don't  haul  them  buffalo 
skins  out  on  t'  the  snow,"  said  Hiel.  "  Don't  get 
things  in  a  muss  gen'ally  ;  wait  for  your  ma  and 
the  Doctor.  Got  to  stow  the  grown  folks  in 
fust ;  boys  kin  hang  on  anywhere." 

And  so  first  came  Mrs.  Gushing  and  the  Doctor, 
and  were  installed  on  the  back  seat,  with  Dolly 
in  between.  Then  hot  bricks  were  handed  in  to 
keep  feet  warm,  and  the  buffalo  robe  was  tucked 
down  securely.  Then  Nabby  took  her  seat  by 
Hiel  in  front,  and  the  sleigh  drove  round  for  old 
Mis.  Jones.  The  Doctor  insisted  on  giving  up 
his  place  to  her  and  tucking  her  warmly  under 
the  buffalo  robe,  while  he  took  the  middle  seat 
and  acted  as  moderator  between  the  boys,  who 

239 


2  4o  THE  APPLE-BEE. 

were  in  a  wild  state  of  hilarity.  Spring,  with 
explosive  barks,  raced  first  on  this  and  then  on 
that  side  of  the  sleigh  as  it  flew  swiftly  over  the 
smooth  frozen  road. 

The  stars  blinked  white  and  clear  out  of  a  deep 
blue  sky,  and  the  path  wound  up-hill  among 
cedars  and  junipers  and  clumps  of  mountain 
laurel,  on  whose  broad  green  leaves  the  tufts  of 
snow  lay  like  clusters  of  white  roses.  The  keen 
clear  air  was  full  of  stimulus  and  vigor ;  and  so 
Hiel's  proposition  to  take  the  longest  way  met 
with  enthusiastic  welcome  from  all  the  party. 
Next  to  being  a  bird,  and  having  wings,  is  the 
sensation  of  being  borne  over  the  snow  by  a  pair 
of  spirited  horses  who  enjoy  the  race,  apparently, 
as  much  as  those  they  carry.  Though  Hiel 
contrived  to  make  the  ride  about  eight  miles,  it 
yet  seemed  but  a  short  time  before  the  party 
drove  up  to  the  great  red  farm-house,  whose 
lighted  windows  sent  streams  of  radiant  welcome 
far  out  into  the  night. 

The  fire  that  illuminated  the  great  kitchen  of 
the  farm-house  was  a  splendid  sight  to  behold. 
It  is,  alas,  with  us  only  a  vision  and  memory  of 
the  past ;  for  who  in  our  days  can  afford  to 
keep  up  the  great  fire-place,  where  the  back-logs 
were  cut  from  the  giants  of  the  forest  and  the 
fore-stick  was  as  much  as  a  modern  man  could 
lift?  And  then  the  glowing  fire-palace  built 


THE  APPLE-BEE. 


241 


thereon !  That  architectural  pile  of  split  and 
seasoned  wood,  over  which  the  flames  leaped  and 
danced  and  crackled  like  rejoicing  genii— what 
a  glory  it  was !  The  hearty,  bright,  warm  hearth 
in  those  days  stood  instead  of  fine  furniture  and 
handsome  pictures.  The  plainest  room  becomes 
beautiful  and  attractive  by  fire-light,  and  when 
men  think  of  a  country  and  home  to  be  fought 
for  and  defended  they  think  of  the  fireside. 

Mr.  Timothy  Hawkins  was  a  thrifty  farmer  and 
prided  himself  on  always  having  the  best,  and  the 
fire  that  was  crackling  and  roaring  up  the  chim 
ney  tha»t  night  was,  to  use  a  hackneyed  modern 
expression,  a  "  work  of  art."  The  great  oak 
back-log  had  required  the  strength  of  four  men 
to  heave  it  into  its  place  ;  and  above  that  lay 
another  log  scarcely  less  in  size  ;  while  the  fore- 
stick  was  no  mean  bough  of  the  same  tree.  A 
bed  of  bright  solid  coals  lay  stretched  beneath, 
and  the  lighter  blaze  of  the  wood  above  was  con 
stantly  sending  down  contributions  to  this  glow 
ing  reservoir. 

Of  course,  on  an  occasion  like  this;  the  "  best 
room"  of  the  house  was  open,  with  a  bright  fire 
lighting  up  the  tall  brass  andirons,  and  revealing 
the  neatly-fitted  striped  carpet  of  domestic 
manufacture,  and  the  braided  rugs,  immortal 
monuments  of  the  never-tiring  industry  of  the 
housewife.  Here  first  the  minister  and  his  wife 


242  THE  APPLE-BEE. 

and  Dolly  were  inducted  with  some  ceremony, 
but  all  declared  their  immediate  preference  of  the 
big  kitchen,  where  the  tubs  of  rosy  apples  and 
golden  quinces  were  standing  round,  and  young- 
men,  maids,  and  matrons  were  taking  their  places 
to  assist  in  the  apple-bee. 

If  the  Doctor  was  a  welcome  guest  in  the 
stately  circles  of  Poganuc  Center,  he  was  far 
more  at  home  in  these  hearty  rural  gatherings. 
There  was  never  the  smallest  room  for  jealousy, 
on  the  part  of  his  plainer  people,  that  he  cared 
more  for  certain  conventional  classes  of  society 
than  for  them,  because  all  instinctively  felt  that  in 
heart  he  was  one  of  themselves.  Like  many  of 
the  educated  men  of  New  England,  he  had  been  a 
farmer's  boy  in  early  days,  and  all  his  pleasantest 
early  recollections  were  connected  with  that 
simple,  wholesome,  healthful,  rural  life.  Like 
many  of  the  New  England  clergy,  too,  he  was 
still  to  some  extent  a  practical  farmer,  finding 
respite  from  brain  labor  in  wholesome  out-door 
work.  His  best  sermons  were  often  thought  out 
at  the  plow  or  in  the  corn-field,  and  his  illustra 
tions  and  enforcements  of  truth  were  those  of  a 
man  acquainted  with  real  life  and  able  to  inter 
pret  the  significance  of  common  things.  His 
people  felt  a  property  in  him  as  their  ideal  man — 
the  man  who  every  Sunday  expressed  for  them, 
better  than  they  could,  the  thoughts  and  inquiries 


THE  APPLE-BEE. 


243 


and  aspirations  which  rose  dimly  in  their  own 
minds. 

"  I  could  ha'  said  all  that  myself  ef  I'd  only 
hed  the  eddication  ;  he  puts  it  so  one  can  sec  it 
can't  be  no  other  way,"  was  the  comment  once 
made  on  a  sermon  of  the  Doctor's  by  a  rough 
but  thoughtful  listener ;  and  the  Doctor  felt  more 
pleased  with  such  applause  than  even  the  more 
cultured  approval  of  Judge  Belcher. 

In  the  wide,  busy  kitchen  there  was  room 
enough  for  all  sorts  of  goings  on.  The  Doctor 
was  soon  comfortably  seated,  knee  to  knee,  in  a 
a  corner  with  two  or  three  controversial-looking 
old  farmers,  who  were  attacking  some  of  the  con 
clusions  of  his  last  Sunday's  sermon.  Of  the  two 
results,  the  Doctor  always  preferred  a  somewhat 
combative  resistance  to  a  sleepy  assent  to  his 
preaching,  and  nothing  delighted  him  more  than 
a  fair  and  square  argumentative  tilt,  showing  that 
the  points  he  made  had  been  taken. 

But  while  the  Doctor  in  his  corner  discussed 
theology,  the  young  people  around  the  tubs  of 
apples  were  having  the  very  best  of  times. 

The  apple,  from  the  days  of  Mother  Eve  and 
the  times  of  Paris  and  Helen,  has  been  a  fruit  full 
of  suggestion  and  omen  in  the  meetings  of  young 
men  and  maidens ;  and  it  was  not  less  fruitful  this 
evening.  Our  friend  Hiel  came  to  the  gathering 
with  a  full  consciousness  of  a  difficult  and  delicate 


?44  THE  APPLE-BEE. 

part  to  be  sustained.  It  is  easy  to  carry  on  four 
or  five  distinct  flirtations  when  one  is  a  handsome 
young  stage-driver  and  the  fair  objects  of  atten 
tion  live  at  convenient  distances  along  the  route. 
But  when  Almiry  Ann,  and  Lucindy  Jane,  and 
Lucretia,  and  Nabby  are  all  to  be  encountered 
at  one  time,  what  is  a  discreet  young  man  to 
do? 

Hiel  had  come  to  the  scene  with  an  armor  of 
proof  in  the  shape  of  a  new  patent  apple-peeler 
and  corer,  warranted  to  take  the  skin  from  an 
apple  with  a  quickness  and  completeness  hitherto 
unimaginable.  This  immediately  gave  him  a  cen 
tral  position  and  drew  an  admiring  throng  about 
him.  The  process  of  naming  an  apple  for  each 
girl,  and  giving  her  the  long  ribbon  of  peel  to 
be  thrown  over  her  head  and  form  fateful  initial 
letters  on  the  floor,  was  one  that  was  soon  in 
vigorous  operation,  with  much  shrieking  and 
laughing  and  opposing  of  claims  among  the  young 
men,  all  of  whom  were  forward  to  claim  their 
own  initials  when  the  peeling  was  thrown  by  the 
girl  of  their  choice.  And  Hiel  was  loud  in  his 
professions  of  jealousy  when  by  this  mode  of 
divination  Almira  Smith  was  claimed  to  be 
secretly  favoring  Seth  Parmelee,  and  Nabby's 
apple-peeling  thrown  over  her  head  formed  a 
cabalistic  character  which  was  vigorously  con 
tended  for  both  by  Jim  Sawin  and  Ike  Peters. 


THE   APPLE-BEE.  245 

As  the  distinction  between  an  I  and  a  J  is  of  a 
very  shadowy  nature,  the  question  apparently 
was  likely  to  remain  an  open  one ;  and  Hiel 
declared  that  it  was  plain  that  nobody  cared  for 
him,  and  that  he  was  evidently  destined  to  be  an 
old  bachelor. 

It  may  be  imagined  that  this  sprightly  circle 
of  young  folks  were  not  the  ones  most  particu 
larly  efficient  in  the  supposed  practical  labors  of 
the  evening.  They  did,  probably,  the  usual 
amount  of  work  done  by  youths  and  maids  to 
gether  at  sewing  societies,  church  fairs  and 
other  like  occasions,  where  by  a  figure  of  speech 
they  are  supposed  to  be  assisting  each  other. 
The  real  work  of  the  occasion  was  done  by 
groups  of  matrons  who  sat  with  their  bright  tin 
pans  in  lap,  soberly  chatting  and  peeling  and 
cutting,  as  they  compared  notes  about  pies  and 
puddings  and  custards,  and  gave  each  other 
recipes  for  certain  Eleusinian  mysteries  of  do 
mestic,  cookery. 

Yet,  let  it  not  be  supposed  that  all  these 
women  thought  of  nothing  but  cookery,  for  in 
the  corner  where  the  minister  was  talking  were 
silent  attentive  listeners,  thoughtful  souls,  who 
had  pushed  their  chairs  nearer,  and  who  lost  not 
a  word  of  the  discussion  on^  higher  themes. 
Never  was  there  a  freer  rationalism  than  in  the 
inquiries  which  the  New  England  theology  tol- 


246  THE  APPLE-BEE. 

crated  and  encouraged  at  every  fireside.  The 
only  trouble  about  them  was  that  they  raised 
awful  questions  to  which  there  is  no  answer,  and 
when  the  Doctor  supposed  he  had  left  a  triumph 
ant  solution  of  a  difficulty  he  had  often  left  only 
a  rankling  thorn  of  doubt. 

A  marked  figure  among  the  Doctor's  circle 
of  listeners  is  Nabby's  mother.  A  slight  figure 
in  a  dress  of  Quakerlike  neatness,  a  thin  old 
delicate  face,  with  its  aureole  of  white  hair  and 
its  transparent  cap-border — the  expression  of  the 
face  a  blending  of  thoughtful  calmness  and  in 
vincible  determination.  Her  still,  patient  blue 
eyes  looked  as  if  they  habitually  saw  beyond 
things  present  to  some  far  off  future.  She  was, 
in  fact,  one  of  those  quiet,  resolute  women 
whose  power  lay  more  in  doing  than  in  talk 
ing.  She  had  passed,  through  the  gate  of  silence 
and  self-abnegation,  into  that  summer-land  where 
it  is  always  peace,  where  the  soul  is  never  more 
alone,  because  God  is  there. 

Now,  as  she  sits  quietly  by,  not  a  word  escapes 
her  of  what  her  minister  is  saying;  for  though 
at  her  husband's  command  she  has  left  her 
church,  her  heart  is  still  immovably  fixed  in  its 
old  home. 

Her  husband  ]^ad  stubbornly  refused  to  join 
the  social  circle,  though  cordially  invited.  How 
ever,  he  offered  no  word  of  comment  or  dissent 


THE  APPLE-BEE.  247 

when  his  wife  departed  with  all  her  sons  to  the 
gathering.  With  her  boys,  Mary  Higgins  was 
all-powerful.  They  obeyed  the  glance  of  her 
eye;  they  listened  to  her  softest  word  as  they 
never  heeded  the  stormy  imperiousness  of  their 
father. 

She  looks  over  with  satisfaction  to  where  her 
boys  are  joining  with  full  heart  in  the  mirth  of 
the  young  people,  and  is  happy  in  their  happi 
ness.  The  Doctor  comes  and  sits  beside  her, 
and  inquires  after  each  one ;  and  the  measure 
of  her  content  is  full.  She  does  not  need  to  ex 
plain  to  him  why  she  has  left  her  church ;  she 
sees  that  he  understands  her  position  and  her 
motives ;  but  she  tells  him  her  heart  and  her 
hopes,  her  ambition  for  her  darling  son,  Abner, 
who  alone  of  all  her  boys  has  the  passion  for 
learning  and  aspires  toward  a  college  education ; 
and  the  Doctor  bids  her  send  her  boy  to  him 
and  he  will  see  what  can  be  done  to  help  him 
on  his  way.  More  talk  they  have,  and  more 
earnest,  on  things  beyond  the  veil  of  earth — on 
the  joy  that  underlies  all  the  sorrows  of  this  life 
and  brightens  the  life  beyond — and  the  Doctor 
feels  that  in  the  interview  he  has  gained  more 
than  he  has  given. 

Long  before  the  evening  was  through,  the 
task  of  apple-cutting  was  accomplished,  the  tubs 
and  pans  cleared  away,  and  the  company  sat 


248  THE  APPLE-BEE. 

about  the  fire  discussing  the  nuts,  apples  and 
cider  which  were  passed  around,  reinforced  by 
doughnuts  and  loaf-cake.  Tales  of  forest  life,  of 
exploits  in  hunting  and  fishing,  were  recounted, 
and  the  Doctor  figured  successfully  as  a  raconteur, 
for  he  was  an  enthusiast  in  forest  lore,  and  had 
had  his  share  of  adventure. 

In  those  days  there  was  still  a  stirring  back 
ground  of  wilderness  life,  of  adventures  with 
bears,  panthers,  and  wild  Indians,  and  of  witches 
and  wizards  and  ghostly  visitors  and  haunted 
houses,  to  make  a  stimulating  fireside  literature; 
and  the  nine  o'clock  bell  ringing  loudly  was  the 
first  break  in  the  interest  of  the  circle.  All 
rose  at  once,  and  while  the  last  greetings  were 
exchanged,  Hiel  and  the  other  young  men 
brought  their  horses  to  the  door,  and  the  whole 
party  were,  in  their  several  sleighs,  soon  flying 
homeward. 

Our  little  Dolly  had  had  an  evening  of  un 
mixed  bliss.  Everybody  had  petted  her,  and 
talked  to  her,  and  been  delighted  with  her 
sayings  and  doings,  and  she  was  carrying  home 
a  paper  parcel  of  sweet  things  which  good 
Mrs.  Hawkins  had  forced  into  her  hand  at 
parting. 

As  to  Hiel  and  Nabby,  they  were  about  on 
an  even  footing.  If  he  had  been  devoted  to 
Lucinda  Jane  Parsons  she  had  distinguished  Jim 


THE  APPLE-BEE.  249 

Sawin  by  marks  of  evident  attention,  not  for 
getting  at  proper  intervals  to  pay  some  regard 
to  Ike  Peters;  so  that,  as  she  complacently  said 
to  herself,  '  he  didn't  get  ahead  of  her.' 

Of  course,  on  the  way  home,  in  the  sleigh 
with  Doctor  and  Mrs.  Gushing,  there  were  no 
advantages  for  a  settling-up  quarrel,  but  Nabby 
let  fly  many  of  those  brisk  little  missiles  of  sar 
casm  and  innuendo  in  which  her  sex  have  so 
decided  a  superiority  over  the  other,  and  when 
arrived  at  the  door  of  the  house,  announced 
peremptorily  that  she  was  'going  straight  to 
bed  and  wasn't  goin'  to  burn  out  candles  for 
nobody  that  night!' 

Hiel  did  not  depart  broken-hearted,  however; 
and  as  he  reviewed  the  field  mentally,  after  his 
return  home,  congratulated  himself  that  things 
were  going  on  "  'bout  as  well  as  they  could  be." 

A  misunderstanding  to  be  made  up,  a  quarrel 
to  be  settled,  was,  as  he  viewed  it,  a  fair  stock 
in  trade  for  a  month  to  come. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

SEEKING  A  DIVINE   IMPULSE. 

IN  the  scenes  which  we  have  painted  we 
have  shown  our  Dr.  Gushing  mingling 
as  man  with  men,  living  a  free,  natural, 
healthy  human  life.  Yet  underneath 
all  this  he  bore  always  on  his  spirit  a  deeper 
and  heavier  responsibility. 

The  ideal  of  a  New  England  minister's  calling 
was  not  the  mere  keeping  up  of  Sunday  services, 
with  two  regular  sermons,  the  pastoral  offices 
of  visiting  the  sick,  performing  marriages,  and 
burying  the  dead.  It  was  not  merely  the  over 
sight  of  schools,  and  catechising  of  children,  and 
bringing  his  people  into  a  certain  habitual  out 
ward  routine  of  religion,  though  all  these  were 
included  in  it.  But,  deeper  than  ail  these,  there 
was  laid  upon  his  soul  the  yearning  desire  to 
bring  every  one  in  his  flock  to  a  living,  conscious 
union  with  God ;  to  a  life  whose  source  and  pur 
poses  were  above  this  earth  and  tending  heaven 
ward.  In  whatever  scene  of  social  life  he  met 
his  people  his  eye  was  ever  upon  them,  studying 
250 


SEEKING  A   DIVINE  IMPULSE.  251 

their  characters,  marking  their  mental  or  moral 
progress,  hoping  and  praying  for  this  final  result. 
Besides  the  stated  services  of  Sunday,  our  good 
Doctor  preached  three  or  four  evenings  in  a 
week  in  the  small  district  school-houses  of  the 
outlying  parishes,  when  the  fervor  of  his  zeal 
drew  always  a  full  audience  to  listen.  More 
especially  now,  since  the  late  political  revolution 
had  swept  away  the  ancient  prescriptive  defenses 
of  religion  and  morals,  and  thrown  the  whole 
field  open  to  individual  liberty,  had  the  Doctor 
felt  that  the  clergy  must  make  up  in  moral  in 
fluence  what  had  passed  away  of  legal  restraints. 

With  all  his  soul  he  was  seeking  a  revival  of 
religion ;  a  deep,  pathetic  earnestness  made  itself 
felt  in  his  preaching  and  prayers,  and  the  more 
spiritual  of  his  auditors  began  to  feel  themselves 
sympathetically  affected.  Of  course,  all  the 
church  members  in'  good  standing  professed  to 
believe  truths  which  made  life  a  sublime  reality, 
and  religion  the  one  absorbing  aim.  The  New 
Testament  gives  a  glorified  ideal  of  a  possible 
human  life,  but  hard  are  his  labors  who  tasks 
himself  to  keep  that  ideal  uppermost  among 
average  human  beings. 

The  coarse,  the  low,  the  mean,  the  vulgar,  is 
ever  thrusting  itself  before  the  higher  and  more 
delicate  nature,  and  claiming,  in  virtue  of  its  very 
brute  strength,  to  be  the  true  reality. 


252  SEEKING  A   DIVINE  IMPULSE. 

New  England  had  been  founded  as  a  theocracy. 
It  had  come  down  to  Dr.  Cushing's  time  under 
laws  and  customs  specially  made  and  intended  to 
form  a  Christian  State,  and  yet  how  far  it  was 
below  the  teachings  of  the  New  Testament  none 
realized  so  deeply  as  the  minister  himself. 

He  was  the  confidant  of  all  the  conflicts  be 
tween  different  neighborhoods,  of  the  small 
envies,  jealousies  and  rivalries  that  agitated 
families  and  set  one  part  of  his  parish  against 
another.  He  was  cognizant  of  all  the  little  un 
worthy  gossip,  the  low  aims,  the  small  ambitions 
of  these  would-be  Christians,  and  sometimes  his 
heart  sank  at  the  prospect. 

Yet  the  preaching,  the  prayers,  the  intense 
earnestness  of  the  New  England  religious  life 
had  sometimes  their  hour  of  being  outwardly 
felt;  the  sacred  altar-flame  that  was  burning 
in  secret  in  so  many  hearts  threw  its  light  into 
the  darkness,  and  an  upspringing  of  religious 
interest  was  the  result. 

The  quarrel  which  had  separated  Zeph  Higgins 
from  the  church  had  spread  more  or  less  un 
wholesome  influence  through  the  neighborhood, 
and  it  was  only  through  some  such  divine  impulse 
as  he  sought  that  the  minister  could  hope  to 
bring  back  a  better  state  of  things.  In  this  labor 
of  love  he  felt  that  he  had  a  constant,  powerful 
co-operative  force  in  the  silent,  prayerful  woman, 


SEEKING  A   DIVINE  IMPULSE.  253 

who  walked  by  Zeph's  side  as  a  guardian  angel. 
Had  it  not  been  tor  her  peculiar  talent  for 
silence  and  peace  the  quarrel  would  have  gone 
much  farther  and  produced  wider  alienation ;  but 
there  is  nothing  that  so  absolutely  quenches 
the  sparks  ot  contention  as  silence.  Especially  is 
this  the  case  with  the  silence  of  a  strong,  deter 
mined  nature,  that  utters  itself  only  to  God.  For 
months  Zeph  had  been  conscious  of  a  sort  of 
invisible  power  about  his  wife — a  power  that 
controlled  him  in  spite  of  himself.  It  was  that 
mysterious  atmosphere  created  by  intense  feeling 
without  the  help  of  words. 

People  often,  in  looking  on  this  couple,  shook 
their  heads  and  said,  "  How  could  that  woman 
ever  have  married  that  man?" 

Such  observers  forget  that  the  woman  may 
see  a  side  of  the  man's  nature  that  they  never 
see,  and  that  often  the  chief  reason  why  a  man 
wins  a  woman's  heart  is  that  she  fancies  herself 
to  have  discerned  in  him  that  which  no  other 
could  discern,  an  undiscovered  realm  peculiarly 
her  own.  The  rough,  combative,  saturnine  man 
known  as  Zeph  Higgins  had  had  his  turn  of 
being  young,  and  his  youth's  blossoming-time 
of  love,  when  he  had  set  his  heart  on  this  Mary, 
then  an  orphan,  alone  in  the  world.  Like  many 
another  woman,  she  was  easily  persuaded  that 
the  stormy,  determined,  impetuous  passion  thus 


254  SEEKING  A   DIVINE  IMPULSE. 

seeking  her  could  take  no  denial;  was  of  the 
same  nature  with  the  kind  of  love  she  felt  able 
to  give  in  return — love  faithful,  devoted,  unseek- 
ing  of  self,  and  asking  only  to  bless. 

But,  in  time,  marriage  brought  its  revelations, 
and  life  lay  before  her  a  bare,  cold,  austere 
reality,  with  the  lover  changed  into  the  toiling 
fellow-laborer  or  the  exacting  master. 

A  late  discernment  of  spirit  showed  her  that 
she  was  married  to  a  man  whose  love  for  her 
was  all  demand,  who  asked  everything  from  her 
and  had  little  power  of  giving  in  return ;  that, 
while  he  needed  her,  and  clung  to  her  at  times 
with  a  sort  of  helpless  reliance,  he  had  no 
power  of  understanding  or  sympathizing  with 
her  higher  nature,  and  that  her  life,  in  all  that 
she  felt  most  deeply  and  keenly,  must  be  a  sol 
itary  one. 

These  hours  of  disillusion  come  to  many, 
and  are  often  turning  points  in  the  soul's  his 
tory.  Rightly  understood,  they  may  prove  the 
seed-bed  where  plants  of  the  higher  life  strike 
deepest  root.  Mary  Higgins  was  one  of  those 
who  found  in  her  religion  the  strength  of  her 
soul.  The  invisible  Friend,  whose  knock  is  heard 
in  every  heart-trial,  entered  in  to  dwell  with 
her,  bringing  the  peace  which  the  world  cannot 
give ;  and  henceforth  she  was  strong  in  spirit,  and 
her  walk  was  in  green  pastures  and  by  still  waters. 


SEEKING  A   DIVINE  IMPULSE.  25$ 

They  greatly  mistake  the  New  England  relig 
ious  development  who  suppose  that  it  was  a 
mere  culture  of  the  head  in  dry  metaphysical 
doctrines.  As  in  the  rifts  of  the  granite  rocks  • 
grow  flowers  of  wonderful  beauty  and  delicacy, 
so  in  the  secret  recesses  of  Puritan  life,  by  the 
fireside  of  the  farm-house,  in  the  contemplative 
silence  of  austere  care  and  labor,  grew  up 
religious  experiences  that  brought  a  heavenly 
brightness  down  into  the  poverty  of  common 
place  existence. 

The  philosophic  pen  of  President  Edwards 
has  set  before  us  one  such  inner  record,  in  the 
history  of  the  wife  whose  saintly  patience  and 
unworldly  elevation  enabled  him  to  bear  the 
reverses  which  drove  him  from  a  comfortable 
parish  to  encounter  the  privations  of  missionary 
life  among  the  Indians.  And  such  experiences 
were  not  uncommon  among  lowly  natures,  who 
lacked  the  eloquence  to  set  them  forth  in  words. 
They  lightened  the  heart,  they  brightened  the 
eye,  they  made  the  atmosphere  of  the  home 
peaceful. 

Such  was  the  inner  life  of  her  we  speak  of. 
At  rest  in  herself,  she  asked  nothing,  yet  was 
willing  to  give  everything  to  the  husband  and 
children  who  were  at  once  her  world  of  duty 
and  of  love.  Year  in  and  out,  she  kept  step 
in  life  with  a  beautiful  exactness,  so  perfect 


256  SEEKING  A   DIVINE  IMPULSE. 

and  complete  in  every  ministry  of  the  household 
that  those  she  served  forgot  to  thank  her,  as  we 
forget  to  thank  the  daily  Giver  of  air  and  sun 
shine.  Zeph  never  had  known  anything  at  home 
but  neatness,  order,  and  symmetry,  regular  hours 
and  perfect  service. 

His  wife  hacl  always  been  on  time,  and  on  duty, 
and  it  seemed  to  him  like  one  of  the  immutable 
laws  of  nature  that  she  should  do  so.  He  was 
proud  of  her  housekeeping,  proud  of  her  virtues, 
as  something  belonging  to  himself,  and,  though 
she  had  no  direct  power  over  his  harsher  moods 
of  combativeness  and  self-will,  she  sometimes 
came  to  him  as  a  still  small  voice  after  the 
earthquake  and  the  tempest,  and  her  words  then 
had  weight  with  him,  precisely  because  they 
were  few,  and  seldom  spoken. 

She  had  been  silent  all  through  the  stormy 
quarrel  that  had  rent  him  away  from  his  church. 
Without  an  argument  where  argument  would 
only  strengthen  opposition,  she  let  his  will  have 
its  way.  She  went  with  him  on  Sundays  to  the 
Episcopal  Church,  and  sat  there  among  her  sons, 
a  lowly  and  conscientious  worshiper,  carefully 
following  a  service  which  could  not  fail  to  bring 
voices  of  comfort  and  help  to  a  devout  soul 
like  hers.  Nevertheless,  the  service,  to  any  one 
coming  to  it  late  in  life  and  with  no  previous 
training,  has  its  difficulties,  which  were  to  her 


SEEKING  A   DIVINE  IMPULSE.  2^ 

embarrassing,  and  to  him,  in  spite  of  his  proud 
self-will,  annoying1.  Zeph  had  the  Spartan  con 
tempt  for  everything  aesthetic,  the  scorn  of 
beauty  which  characterized  certain  rough  stages 
of  New  England  life.  He  not  only  did  not  like 
symbolic  forms,  but  he  despised  them  as  effemi 
nate  impertinences;  and  every  turn  and  move 
ment  that  he  was  compelled  to  make  in  his  new 
ritualistic  surroundings  was  aggravating  to  his 
temper.  To  bend  the  knee  at  the  name  of 
Jesus,  to  rise  up  reverently  when  the  words  of 
Jesus  were  about  to  be  read  in  the  Gospel  of 
the  day,  were  acts  congenial  to  his  wife  as  they 
were  irksome  to  him;  and,  above  all,  the  idea 
of  ecclesiastical  authority,  whether  exercised  by 
rector,  bishop  or  church,  woke  all  the  refractory 
nerves  of  opposition  inherited  from  five  gener 
ations  of  Puritans.  So  that  Zeph  was  as  little 
comfortable  in  his  new  position  as  his  worst 
enemy  could  have  desired.  Nothing  but  the 
strength  of  his  obstinate  determination  not  to 
yield  a  point  once  taken  kept  him  even  out 
wardly  steady.  But  to  go  back  to  his  church, 
to  confess  himself  in  the  wrong  and  make  up 
his  old  quarrel  with  the  Deacon,  would  be  worse 
than  to  stay  where  he  was. 

The  tenacity  and  devotion  with  which  some 
hard  natures  will  cleave  to  a  quarrel  which  em 
bitters  their  very  life-blood  is  one  of  the  strange 


258  SEEKING  A   DIVINE  IMPULSE. 

problems  of  our  human  nature.  In  the  heredi 
tary  form  of  family  prayer  that  Zeph  Higgins 
used  every  day,  there  was  the  customary  phrase 
"We  are  miserable  sinners;"  and  yet  Zeph,  like 
many  another  man  who  repeats  that  form  in  the 
general,  would  rather  die  than  confess  a  fault  in 
any  particular ;  and  in  this  respect  we  must  ad 
mit  that  he  was  not,  after  all,  a  very  exceptional 
character.  How  often  in  our  experience  do  we 
meet  a  man  brave  enough,  when  once  fully  com 
mitted,  to  turn  a  square  corner  and  say  "  I  was 
wrong"?  If  only  such  have  a  stone  to  cast  at 
Zeph  Higgins,  the  cairn  will  not  be  a  very  high 
one. 

Zeph  never  breathed  an  opposing  word  when 
his  wife,  every  .Friday  evening,  lighted  the  lan 
tern,  and  with  all  her  sons  about  her  set  off  to 
the  evening  prayer-meeting  in  the  little  red 
school-house,  though  after  his  quarrel  with  the 
Deacon  he  never  went  himself.  Those  weekly 
meetings,  when  she  heard  her  minister  and  joined 
in  the  prayers  and  praises  of  her  church,  wrere 
the  brightest  hours  of  her  life,  and  her  serene 
radiant  face,  following  his  words  with  rapt  at 
tention,  was  a  help  and  inspiration  to  her  pastor. 

"  There  is  a  revival  begun  over  there,"  he 
said  to  his  wife  as  they  were  riding  home  from 
one  of  his  services.  "  It  is  begun  in  the  heart 
of  that  good  woman.  She  has  long  been  pray- 


SEEKING  A   DIVINE   IMPULSE.  259 

ing-  for  a  revival,  and  I  am  confident  that  her 
prayers  will  be  answered." 

They  were  answered,  but  in  a  way  little 
dreamed  of  by  any  one 

The  prayers  we  offer  for  heavenly  blessings 
often  come  up  in  our  earthly  soil  as  plants  of 
bitter  sorrow. 

So  it  proved  in  this  case. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

"IN   SUCH   AN   HOUR  AS  YE  THINK   NOT." 

[|NE  morning  in  the  latter  part  of  spring 
Zeph  Higgins  received  a  shock  which 
threw  his  whole  soul  into  confusion. 

His  wife,  on  rising  to  go  forth  to 
her  wonted  morning  cares,  had  fainted  dead 
away  and  been  found  lying,  apparently  lifeless, 
on  the  bed,  when  her  husband  returned  for  his 
breakfast. 

Instantly  everything  was  in  commotion.  The 
nearest  neighbor  was  sent  for,  and  restoratives 
applied  with  such  skill  as  domestic  experience 
could  suggest,  and  one  of  the  boys  dispatched 
in  all  haste  for  the  doctor,  with  orders  to  bring 
Nabby  at  once  to  take  her  mother's  place. 

The  fainting  fit  proved  of  short  duration,  but 
was  followed  by  a  violent  chill  and  a  rise  of 
fever,  and  when  the  doctor  arrived  he  reported 
a  congestion  of  the  lungs  threatening  the  gravest 
results. 

Forthwith  the  household  was  to  be  organized 
for  sickness.  A  fire  was  kindled  in  the  best  bed 
room  and  the  patient  laid  there ;  Mis'  Persis  was 

260 


"IN  SUCH  AN  HOUR  AS  YE  THINK  NOT."     26i 

sent  for  and  installed  as  nurse;  Nabby  became 
housekeeper,  and  to  superficial  view  the  usual 
order  reigned.  Zeph  went  forth  to  the  labors 
of  the  field,  struggling  with  a  sort  of  new 
terror;  there  was  an  evil  threatening  his  house, 
against  the  very  thought  and  suggestion  of  which 
he  fought  with  all  his  being.  His  wife  could  not, 
should  not,  ought  not  to  be  sick, — and  as  to  dying, 
that  was  not  to  be  thought  of!  What  could  he 
do  without  her?  What  could  any  of  them  do 
without  her?  During  the  morning's  work  that 
was  the  problem  that  he  kept  turning  and  turn 
ing  in  his  mind — what  life  would  be  without  her. 
Yet,  when  Abner,  who  was  working  beside  him, 
paused  over  his  hoe  and  stood  apparently  lost 
in  thought,  he  snapped  a  harsh  question  at  him 
with  a  crack  like  the  sound  of  a  lash. 

''What  ye  doin'  there?" 

Abner  started,  looked  confused  and  resumed 
his  work,  only  saying,  "  I  was  thinking  about 
Mother." 

"  Nonsense !  Do  n't  make  a  fool  of  yourself. 
Mother  '11  come  all  right." 

"The  doctor  said"-  said  Abner. 

"  Do  n't  tell  me  nothin'  what  the  doctor  said ; 
I  don't  want  to  hear  on't,"  said  Zeph,  in  a  high 
voice;  and  the  two  hoes  worked  on  in  silence 
for  a  while,  till  finally  Zeph  broke  out  again. 

"Wai!    what  did  the  doctor  say?      Out   with 


262      "-flV  SUCH  AN  HOUR  AS  YE  THINK  NOT." 

it;  as  good  say  it  's  think  it.  What  did  the 
doctor  say?  Why  don't  you  speak?" 

"  He  said  she  was  a  very  sick  woman,"  an 
swered  Abner. 

"He's  a  fool.  I  don't  think  nothin'  o'  that 
doctor's  jedgment.  I'll  have  Dr.  Sampson  over 
irom  East  Poganuc.  Your  mother 's  got  the 
best  constitution  of  any  woman  in  this  neighbor 
hood." 

"Yes;  but  she  hasn't  been  well  lately,  and 
I've  seen  it,"  said  Abner. 

"  That 's  all  croakin'.  Do  n't  believe  a  word 
on 't.  Mother 's  been  right  along,  stiddy  as  a 
clock;  'taint  nothin'  but  one  o'  these  'ere  pesky 
spring  colds  she  's  got.  She  '11  be  up  and  'round 
by  to-morrow  or  next  day.  I'll  have  another 
doctor,  and  I'll  get  her  wine  and  bark,  and 
strengthenin'  things,  and  Nabby  shall  do  the 
work,  and  she'll  come  all  right  enough." 

"  I'm  sure  I  hope  so,"  said  Abner. 

"Hope!  what  d'ye  say  hope  for?  I  ain't  a 
goin'  to  hope  nothin'  'bout  it.  I  know  so ;  she's 
got  to  git  well — ain't  no  two  ways  'bout  that." 

Yet  Zeph  hurried  home  an  hour  before  his 
usual  time  and  met  Nabby  at  the  door. 

"Wai,  ain't  your  mother  gettin'  better?" 

There  were  tears  in  Nabby's  eyes  as  she 
answered, 

"Oh,  dear!  she's  been  a  raisin'  blood.    Doctor 


"IN  SUCH  AN  HOUR  AS  YE  THINK  NOT."      263 

says  it's  from  her  lungs.  Mis'  Persis  says  it's  a 
-  bad  sign.  She's  very  weak — and  she  looks  so 
pale !" 

"They  must  give  her  strengthenin'  things," 
said  Zeph.  "Do  they?" 

"They're  givin'  what  the  Doctor  left.  Her 
fever's  beginnin'  to  rise  now.  Doctor  says  we 
mustn't  talk  to  her,  nor  let  her  talk." 

11  \Val,  I'm  a  goin'  up  to  see  her,  anyhow.  I 
guess  I've  got  a  right  to  speak  to  my  own 
wife."  And  Zeph  slipped  off  his  heavy  cowhide 
boots,  and  went  softly  up  to  the  door  of  the 
room,  and  opened  it  without  stopping  to  knock. 

The  blinds  were  shut ;  it  seemed  fearfully  dark 
and  quiet.  His  wife  was  lying  with  her  eyes 
closed,  looking  wrhite  and  still ;  but  in  the  center 
of  each  pale  cheek  was  the  round,  bright,  burning 
spot  of  the  rising  hectic. 

Mis'  Persis  was  sitting  by  her  with  the  author 
itative  air  of  a  nurse  who  has  taken  full  possession; 
come  to  stay  and  to  reign.  She  was  whisking 
the  flies  away  from  her  patient  with  a  feather 
fan,  which  she  waved  forbiddingly  at  Zeph  as  he 
approached. 

"  Mother,"  said  he  in  an  awe-struck  tone,  bend 
ing  over  his  wife,  "  don't  you  know  me  ?" 

She  opened  her  eyes ;  saw  him ;  smiled  and 
reached  out  her  hand.  It  was  thin  and  white, 
burning  with  the  rising  fever. 


264     "/•#"  SUCH  AN  HOUR  AS  YE  THINK  NOT." 

"  Don't  you  feel  a  little  better?"  he  asked. 
There  was  an  imploring  eagerness  in  his  tone.  t 

"  Oh,  yes;  I'm  better." 

"You'll  get  well  soon,  won't  you?" 

"  Oh,  yes;  I  shall  be  well  soon,"  she  said,  look 
ing  at  him  with  that  beautiful  bright  smile. 

His  heart  sank  as  he  looked.  The  smile  was 
so  strangely  sweet — and  all  this  quiet,  this  still 
ness,  this  mystery!  She  was  being  separated 
from  him  by  impalpable  shadowy  forces  that 
could  not  be  battled  with  or  defied.  In  his  heart 
a  warning  voice  seemed  to  say  that  just  so 
quietly  she  might  fade  from  his  sight — pass  away, 
and  be  forever  gone.  The  thought  struck  cold 
to  his  heart,  and  he  uttered  an  involuntary  groan. 

His  wife  opened  her  eyes,  moved  slightly,  and 
seemed  as  if  she  would  speak,  but  Mis'  Persis 
put  her  hand  authoritatively  over  her  mouth. 
"  Don't  you  say  a  word,"  said  she. 

Then  turning  with  concentrated  energy  on 
Zeph,  she  backed  him  out  of  the  room  and  shut 
the  door  upon  him  and  herself  in  the  entr}^  before 
she  trusted  herself  to  speak.  When  she  did,  it 
was  as  one  having  authority. 

"Zephaniah  Higgins," she  said,  "air  you  crazy? 
Do  you  want  to  kill  your  wife?  Ef  ye  come 
round  her  that  way  and  git  her  a-talkin'  she'll 
bleed  from  her  lungs  agin,  and  that'll  finish  her. 
You've  jest  got  to  shet  up  and  submit  to  the 


"IN  SUCH  AN  HOUR  AS  YE  THINK  NOT."     265 

Lord,  Zephaniah  Higgins,  and  that's  what  you 
hain't  never  done  yit;  you've  got  to  know  that 
the  Lord  is  goin'  to  do  his  sovereign  will  and 
pleasure  with  your  wife,  and  you've  got  to  be 
still.  That's  all.  You  can't  do  nothin'.  We 
shall  all  do  the  best  we  can ;  but  you've  jest  got 
to  wait  the  Lord's  time  and  pleasure." 

So  saying,  she  went  back  into  the  sick-room 
and  closed  the  door,  leaving  Zeph  standing 
desolate  in  the  entry. 

Zeph,  like  most  church  members  of  his  day, 
had  been  trained  in  theology,  and  had  often  ex 
pressed  his  firm  belief  in  what  was  in  those  days 
spoken  of  as  the  "doctrine  of  divine  sovereignty." 

A  man's  idea  of  his  God  is  often  a  reflection 
of  his  own  nature.  The  image  of  an  absolute 
monarch,  who  could  and  would  always  do  ex 
actly  as  he  pleased,  giving  no  account  to  any  one 
of  his  doings,  suited  Zeph  perfectly  as  an  ab 
stract  conception;  but  when  this  resistless  awful 
Power  was  coming  right  across  his  path,  the 
doctrine  assumed  quite  another  form. 

The  curt  statement  made  by  Mis'  Persis  had 
struck  him  with  a  sudden  terror,  as  if  a  flash 
of  lightning  had  revealed  an  abyss  opening  under 
his  feet.  That  he  was  utterly  helpless  in  his 
Sovereign's  hands  he  saw  plainly  ;  but  his  own 
will  rose  in  rebellion — a  rebellion  useless  and 
miserable. 


266      "/AT  SUCH  AN  HOUR  AS  YE  THINK  NOT? 

His  voice  trembled  that  night  as  he  went 
through  the  familiar  words  of  the  evening  pray 
er  ;  a  rush  of  choking  emotions  almost  stopped 
his  utterance,  and  the  old  words,  worn  smooth 
with  use,  seemed  to  have  no  relation  to  the  tur 
bulent  tempest  of  feeling  that  was  raging  in  his 
heart. 

After  prayers  he  threw  down  the  Bible  with 
an  impatient  bang,  bolted  for  his  room  and  shut 
himself  in  alone. 

"Poor  Father!  he  takes  it  hard,"  said  Nabby, 
wiping  her  eyes. 

''He  takes  everything  hard,"  said  Abner.  "I 
don't  know  how  we'll  get  along  with  him,  now 
Mother  isn't  round." 

"  Well,  let's  hope  Mother's  goin'  to  get  well," 
said  Nabby.  "  I  can't — I  ain't  goin'  to  think 
anything  else." 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

DOLLY   BECOMES   ILLUSTRIOUS. 

|T   the    Parsonage   the   illness  in  Zeph's 
household  brought  social  revolution. 

The  whole  burden  of  family  ministra 
tion,  which  had  rested  on  Nabby's 
young  and  comely  shoulders,  fell  with  a  sudden 
weight  upon  those  of  Mrs.  Gushing.  This  was 
all  the  more  unfortunate  because  the  same 
exigency  absorbed  the  services  of  Mis'  Persis, 
who  otherwise  might  have  been  relied  on  to  fill 
the  gap. 

But  now  was  Dolly's  hour  for  feeling  her  own 
importance  and  assuming  womanly  cares.  She 
rushed  to  the  front  with  enthusiasm  and  attacked 
every  branch  of  domestic  service,  with  a  zeal  not 
always  according  to  knowledge  but  making  her 
on  the  whole  quite  an  efficient  assistance.  She 
washed  and  wiped  dishes,  and  cleared,  and 
cleaned,  and  dusted,  and  set  away,  as  she  had 
seen  Nabby  do :  she  propped  herself  on  a  stool 
at  the  ironing-table  and  plied  the  irons  vigor 
ously  ;  and,  resenting  the  suggestion  that  she 

267 


268  DOLLY  BECOMES  ILLUSTRIOUS. 

should  confine  herself  to  towels  and  napkins, 
struck  out  boldly  upon  the  boys'  shirts  and  other 
complicated  tasks,  burning  her  fingers  and  heat 
ing  her  face  in  the  determination  to  show  her 
prowess  and  ability. 

"  Dolly  is  really  quite  a  little  woman,"  she 
overheard  her  mother  saying  to  her  father ;  and 
her  bosom  swelled  with  conscious  pride  and  she 
worked  all  the  faster. 

"  Now,  you  boys  must  be  very  careful  not  to 
make  any  more  trouble  than  you  can  help,"  she 
said  with  an  air  of  dignity  as  Will  and  Bob 
burst  into  the  kitchen  and  surprised  her  at  the 
ironing-table.  "  Nabby  is  gone,  and  there  is 
nobody  to  do  the  work  but  me." 

"  Upon  my  word,  Mrs.  Puss !"  said  Will,  stop 
ping  short  and  regarding  the  little  figure  with  a 
serio-comic  air.  "  How  long  since  you've  been  so 
grand?  How  tall  we're  getting  in  our  own  eyes 
— oh  my!"  and  Will  seized  her  off  the  ironing 
stool  and,  perching  her  on  his  shoulder,  danced 
round  the  table  with  her  in  spite  of  her  indignant 
protests. 

Dolly  resented  this  invasion  of  her  dignity 
with  all  her  little  might,  and  the  confusion  called 
her  mother  down  out  of  the  chamber  where  she 
had  been  at  work. 

"  Boys,  I'm  astonished  at  you,"  said  she.  Now 
Mrs.  Gushing  had  been  "  astonished "  at  these 


DOLLY  BECOMES  ILLUSTRIOUS. 


269 


same  boys  for  about  thirteen  or  fourteen  years, 
so  that  the  sensation  could  not  be  quite  over 
powering  at  this  time. 

"  Well,  Mother,"  said  Will,  with  brisk  assur 
ance,  setting  Dolly  down  on  her  stool,  "  I  was 
only  giving  Dolly  a  ride,"  and  he  looked  up  in 
her  face  with  the  confident  smile  that  generally 
covered  all  his  sins,  and  brought  out  an  answer 
ing  smile  on  the  face  of  his  mother. 

"  Come  now,  boys,"  she  said,  "  Nabby  has  gone 
home;  you  must  be  good,  considerate  children, 
make  as  little  trouble  as  possible  and  be  all  the 
help  you  can." 

"  But,  Mother,  Dolly  was  taking  such  grown 
up  airs,  as  if  she  was  our  mother.  I  had  just  to 
give  her  a  lesson,  to  show  her  who  she  was." 

"  Dolly  is  a  good,  helpful  little  girl,  and  I  don't 
know  what  I  should  do  without  her,"  said  Mrs. 
Gushing ;  "  she  does  act  like  a  grown-up  woman, 
and  I  am  glad  of  it." 

Dolly's  face  flushed  with  delight ;  she  felt  that 
at  last  she  had  reached  the  summit  of  her  am 
bition  :  she  was  properly  appreciated ! 

"And  you  boys,"  continued  Mrs.  Gushing, 
"  must  act  like  grown-up  men,  and  be  considerate 
and  helpful." 

"All  right,  Mother;  only  give  the  orders.  Bob 
and  I  can  make  the  fires,  and  bring  in  the  wood, 
and  fill  the  tea-kettle,  and  do  lots  of  things."  And, 


27o  DOLLY  BECOMES  ILLUSTRIOUS. 

to  do  the  boys  justice,  they  did  do  their  best  to 
lighten  the  domestic  labors  of  this  interregnum. 

The  exigency  would  have  been  far  less  serious 
were  it  not  that  the  minister's  house  in  those  days 
was  a  sort  of  authorized  hotel,  not  only  for  the 
ministerial  brotherhood  but  for  all  even  remotely 
connected  with  the  same,  and  all  that  miscellane 
ous  drift-wood  of  hospitality  that  the  eddies  of 
life  cast  ashore.  The  minister's  table  was  always 
a  nicely-kept  one;  the  Parsonage  was  a  place 
where  it  was  pleasant  to  abide ;  and  so  the  guest- 
chamber  of  the  Parsonage  was  seldom  empty. 
In  fact,  this  very  week  a  certain  Brother  Waring, 
an  ex-minister  from  East  Poganuc,  who  wanted 
to  consult  the  Poganuc  Doctor,  came,  unan 
nounced,  with  his  wife  and  trunk,  and  they  settled 
themselves  comfortably  down. 

Such  inflictions  were  in  those  days  received  in 
the  literal  spirit  of  the  primitive  command  to 
"  use  hospitality  without  grudging;"  but  when  a 
week  had  passed  and  news  came  that  Mrs.  Hig- 
gins  was  going  down  to  the  grave  in  quick  con 
sumption,  and  that  Nabby  would  be  wanted  at 
home  for  an  indefinite  period,  it  became  neces 
sary  to  find  some  one  to  fill  her  place  at  the  Par 
sonage,  and  Hiel  Jones's  mother  accepted  the 
position  temporarily — considering  her  services  in 
the  minister's  family  as  a  sort  of  watch  upon  the 
walls  of  Zion.  Not  that  she  was  by  any  means 


DOLLY  BECOMES  ILLUSTRIOUS.  2;i 

insensible  to  the  opportunity  of  receiving  worldly 
wages;  but  she  wisned  it  explicitly  understood 
that  she  was  not  going  out  to  service.  She  was 
44  helpin'  Mis'  Gushing."  The  help,  however,  was 
greatly  balanced  in  this  case  by  certain  attendant 
hindrances  such  as  seem  inseparable  from  the 
whole  class  of  "  lady  helps." 

Mrs.  Jones  had  indeed  a  very  satisfactory  capa 
bility  in  all  domestic  processes  ;  her  bread  was  of 
the  whitest  and  finest,  her  culinary  skill  above 
mediocrity,  and  she  was  an  accomplished  laun 
dress.  But  so  much  were  her  spirits  affected  by 
the  construction  that  might  possibly  be  put  on 
her  position  in  the  family  that  she  required  sooth 
ing  attentions  and  expressions  of  satisfaction  and 
confidence  every  hour  of  the  day  to  keep  her  at 
all  comfortable.  She  had  stipulated  expressly  to 
be  received  at  the  family  table,  and,  further  than 
this,  to  be  brought  into  the  room  and  introduced 
to  all  callers;  and,  this  being  done,  demeaned 
herself  in  a  manner  so  generally  abused  and  mel 
ancholy  that  poor  Mrs.  Gushing  could  not  but 
feel  that  the  burden  which  had  been  taken  off 
from  her  muscles  had  been  thrown  with  double 
weight  upon  her  nerves. 

After  a  call  of  any  of  the  "town-hill"  aris 
tocracy,  Mrs.  Jones  would  be  sure  to  be  found 
weeping  in  secret  places,  because  'Mrs.  Colonel 
Davenport  had  looked  down  on  her,'  or  the 


2y2  DOLLY  BECOMES  ILLUSTRIOUS. 

Governor's  lady  t  didn't  speak  to  her,'  and  she 
*  should  like  to  know  what  such  proud  folks 
was  goin'  to  do  when  they  got  to  heaven !' 
Then  there  was  always  an  implication  that  if 
ministers  only  did  their  duty  all  these  distinc 
tions  of  rank  would  cease,  and  everybody  be 
just  as  good  as  everybody  else.  The  poor  body 
had  never  even  dreamed  of  a  kingdom  of  heaven 
where  the  Highest  was  "  as  him  that  serveth;" 
and  what  with  Mrs.  Jones's  moans,  and  her  tears, 
and  her  frequent  sick  headaches,  accompanied 
by  abundant  use  of  camphor,  Mrs.  Gushing,  in 
some  desperate  moments,  felt  as  if  she  would 
rather  die  doing  her  own  work  than  wear  her 
self  out  in  the  task  of  conciliating  a  substitute. 
Then,  though  not  a  serious  evil,  it  certainly  was 
somewhat  disagreeable  to  observe  Mrs.  Jones's 
statistical  talents  and  habits  of  minute  inspection, 
and  to  feel  that  she  was  taking  notes  which 
would  put  all  the  parish  in  possession  of  precise 
information  as  to  the  condition  of  Mrs.  Cushing's 
tablecloths,  towels,  napkins,  and  all  the  minutiae 
of  her  housekeeping  arrangements.  There  is,  of 
course,  no  sin  or  harm  in  such  particularity ; 
but  almost  every  lady  prefers  the  shades  of  poetic 
obscurity  to  soften  the  details  of  her  domestic 
interior.  In  those  days,  when  the  minister  was 
the  central  object  of  thought  in  the  parish,  it 
was  specially  undesirable  that  all  this  kind  of 


DOLLY  BECOMES  ILLUSTRIOUS.  2-]$ 

information  should  be  distributed,  since  there 
were  many  matrons  who  had  opinions  all  ready 
made  as  to  the  proper  manner  in  which  a 
minister's  wife  should  expend  his  salary  and 
order  his  household. 

It  was  therefore  with  genuine  joy  that,  after 
a  fortnight's  care  of  this  kind,  a  broad-faced, 
jolly  African  woman  was  welcomed  by  Mrs. 
Gushing  to  her  kitchen  in  place  of  Mrs.  Jones. 
Dinah  was  picked  up  in  a  distant  parish,  and 
entered  upon  her  labors  with  an  unctuous  sat 
isfaction  and  exuberance  that  was  a  positive 
relief  after  the  recent  tearful  episode.  It  is  true 
she  was  slow,  and  somewhat  disorderly,  but  she 
was  unfailingly  good-natured,  and  had  no  dig 
nity  to  be  looked  after ;  and  so  there  was  rest 
for  a  while  in  the  Parsonage. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

THE  VICTORY. 

|UMMER  with  its  deep  blue  skies  was 
bending  over  the  elms  of  Poganuc. 
The  daisies  were  white  in  the  mead 
ows  and  the  tall  grass  was  nodding  its 
feathery  sprays  of  blossom.  The  windows  of 
the  farm  houses  stood  open,  with  now  and  then 
a  pillow  or  a  bolster  lounging  out  of  them,  air 
ing  in  the  sunshine.  The  hens  stepped  hither 
and  thither  with  a  drowsy  continuous  cackle  of 
contentment  as  they  sunned  themselves  in  the 
warm  embracing  air. 

In  the  great  elm  that  overhung  the  roof  of 
Zeph  Higgins's  farm  house  was  a  mixed  babble 
and  confusion  of  sweet  bird  voices.  An  oriole 
from  her  swinging  nest  caroled  cheerfully,  and 
bobolinks  and  robins  replied,  and  the  sounds 
blended  pleasantly  with  the  whisper  and  flutter 
of  leaves,  as  soft  summer  breezes  stirred  them. 
But  over  one  room  in  that  house  rested  the 
shadow  of  death ;  there,  behind  the  closed  blinds, 
in  darkened  stillness  days  passed  by  ;  and  watch 
ers  came  at  night  to  tend  and  minister;  and 
274 


THE    VICTORY.  275 

bottles  accumulated  on  the  table;  and  those  who 
came  entered  softly  and  spoke  with  bated  breath ; 
and  the  doctor  was  a  daily  visitor;  and  it  was 
known  that  the  path  of  the  quiet  patient  who 
lay  there  was  steadily  going  down  to  the  dark 
river. 

Every  one  in  the  neighborhood  knew  it:  for, 
in  the  first  place,  everybody  in  that  vicinity,  as 
a  matter  of  course,  knew  all  about  everybody 
else:  and  then,  besides  that,  Mrs.  Higgins  had 
been  not  only  an  inoffensive,  but  a  much  esteemed 
and  valued  neighbor.  Her  quiet  step,  her  gentle 
voice,  her  skillful  ministry  had  been  always  at 
hand  where  there  had  been  sickness  or  pain  to 
be  relieved,  and  now  that  her  time  was  come 
there  was  a  universal  sympathy.  Nabby's  shelves 
were  crowrded  with  delicacies  made  up  and  sent 
in  by  one  or  another  good  wife  to  tempt  the 
failing  appetite.  In  the  laborious,  simple  life 
that  they  were  living  in  those  days,  there  was 
small  physiological  knowledge,  and  the  leading 
idea  in  most  minds  in  relation  to  the  care  of 
sickness  was  the  importance  of  getting  the  pa 
tient  to  eat;  for  this  end,  dainties  that  might 
endanger  the  health  of  a  well  person  were  often 
sent  in  as  a  tribute  to  the  sick.  Then  almost 
every  house-mother  had  her  own  favorite  spe 
cific,  of  sovereign  virtue,  which  she  prepared 
and  sent  in  to  increase  the  army  of  bottles  which 


276 


THE    VICTORY. 


always  gathered  in  a  sick-room.  Mis'  Persis, 
however,  while  graciously  accepting  these  trib 
utes,  had  her  own  mental  reservations,  and  often 
slyly  made  away  with  the  medicine  in  a  manner 
that  satisfied  the  giver  and  did  not  harm  the 
patient.  Quite  often,  too,  Hiel  Jones,  returning 
on  his  afternoon  course,  stopped  his  horses  at  the 
farm-house  door  and  descended  to  hand  in  some 
offering  of  sympathy  and  good  will  from  friends 
who  lived  miles  away. 

Hiel  did  not  confine  himself  merely  to  trans 
mitting  the  messages  of  neighbors,  but  interested 
himself  personally  in  the  work  of  consolation, 
going  after  Nabby  wherever  she  might  be  found — 
at  the  spinning  wheel,  in  the  garret,  or  in  the 
dairy  below — and  Nabby,  in  her  first  real  trouble, 
was  so  accessible  and  so  confiding  that  Hiel 
found  voice  to  say  unreproved  Avhat  the  brisk 
maiden  might  have  flouted  at  in  earlier  days. 

"  I'm  sure  I  don't  know  what  we  can  do  with 
out  Mother,"  Nabby  said  one  day,  her  long  eye 
lashes  wet  with  tears.  "  Home  won't  ever  seem 
home  without  her." 

"  Well,"  answered  Hiel,  "  I  know  what  7  shall 
want  you  to  do,  Nabby :  come  to  me  ;  and  you 
and  I'll  have  a  home  all  to  ourselves." 

And  Nabby  did  not  gainsay  the  word,  but  only 
laid  her  head  on  his  shoulder  and  sobbed,  and 
said  he  was  a  real  true  friend  and  she  should 


THE    VICTORY.  2?7 

never  forget  his  kindness ;  and  Hiel  kissed  and 
comforted  her  with  all  sorts  of  promises  of 
future  devotion.  Truth  to  say,  he  found  Nabby 
in  tears  and  sorrow  more  attractive  than  when 
she  sparkled  in  her  gayest  spirits. 

But  other  influences  emanated  from  that 
shadowy  room — influences  felt  through  all  the 
little  neighborhood.  Puritan  life  had  its  current 
expressions  significant  of  the  intense  earnestness 
of  its  faith  in  the  invisible,  and  among  these  was 
the  phrase  "  a  triumphant  death."  There  seemed 
to  be  in  the  calm  and  peaceful  descent  of  this 
quiet  spirit  to  the  grave  a  peculiar  and  luminous 
clearness  that  fulfilled  the  meaning  of  that  idea. 
The  "  peace  that  passeth  understanding  "  bright 
ened,  in  the  sunset  radiance,  into  "joy  unspeak 
able  and  full  of  glory."  Her  decline,  though 
rapid  and  steady,  was  painless:  and  it  seemed 
to  those  who  looked  upon  her  and  heard  her 
words  of  joy  and  trust  that  the  glory  so  visible 
to  her  must  be  real  and  near — as  if  in  that  sick- 
chamber  a  door  had  in  very  deed  been  opened 
into  heaven. 

When  she  became  aware  that  the  end  was 
approaching  she  expressed  a  wish  that  her  own 
minister  should  be  sent  for,  and  Dr.  Gushing 
came.  The  family  gathered  in  her  room.  She 
was  propped  up  on  pillows,  her  eyes  shining 
and  cheeks  glowing  with  the  hectic  flush,  and  an 

l  i~~*- 


278  THE    VICTORY. 

indescribable  brightness  of  expression  in  her  face 
that  seemed  almost  divine. 

The  Doctor  read  from  Isaiah  the  exultant 
words:  "Arise,  shine,  for  thy  light  is  come,  and 
the  glory  of  the  Lord  is  risen  upon  thee.  For 
behold,  darkness  shall  cover  the  earth,  and  gross 
darkness  the  people,  but  the  Lord  shall  arise  on 
thee,  and  his  glory  shall  be  seen  on  thee.  The 
sun  shall  no  more  be  thy  light  by  day,  neither 
for  brightness  shall  the  moon  give  light  to  thee, 
but  the  Lord  shall  be  unto  thee  an  everlasting 
light,  and  thy  God  thy  glory.  Thy  sun  shall  no 
more  go  down  nor  thy  moon  withdraw  itself, 
for  the  Lord  shall  be  thy  everlasting  light,  and 
the  days  of  thy  mourning  shall  be  ended."  In 
the  prayer  that  followed  he  offered  thanks  that 
God  had  given  unto  our  sister  the  victory,  and 
enabled  her  to  rejoice  in  hope  of  the  glory  of 
God,  while  yet  remaining  with  them  as  a  witness 
of  the  faithfulness  of  the  promise.  He  prayed 
that  those  dear  to  her  might  have  grace  given 
them  to  resign  her  wholly  to  the  will  of  God 
and  to  rejoice  with  her  in  her  great  joy. 

When  they  rose  from  prayer,  Zeph,  who  had 
sat  in  gloomy  silence  through  all,  broke  out : 

"  I  can't — I  cant  give  her  up  !  It's  hard  on  me. 
I  cant  do  it,  and  I  won't." 

She  turned  her  eyes  on  him,  and  a  wonderful 
expression  of  love  and  sorrow  and  compassion 


THE    VICTORY.  2y9 

came  into  her  face.  She  took  his  hand,  saying, 
with  a  gentle  gravity  and  composure: 

"  I  want  to  see  my  husband  alone." 

When  all  had  left  the  room,  he  sunk  down  on 
his  knees  by  the  bed  and  hid  his  face.  The  bed 
was  shaken  by  his  convulsive  sobbing.  "  My  dear 
husband,"  she  said,  "  you  know  I  love  you." 

4'  Yes — yes,  and  you  are  the  only  one  that 
does — the  only  one  that  can.  I'm  hard  and 
cross,  and  bad  as  the  devil.  Nobody  could  love 
me  but  you  ;  and  I  can't — I  wont — give  you  up !" 

"  You  needn't  give  me  up ;  you  must  come 
with  me.  I  want  you  to  come  where  I  am ;  I 
shall  \vait  for  you;  you're  an  old  man — it  won't 
be  long.  But  oh,  do  listen  to  me  now.  You 
can't  come  to  heaven  till  you've  put  away  all 
hard  feeling  out  of  your  heart.  You  must  make 
up  that  quarrel  with  the  church.  When  you 
know  you've  been  wrong,  you  must  say  so.  I 
want  you  to  promise  this.  Please  do!" 

There  was  silence ;  and  Zeph's  form  shook 
with  the  conflict  of  his  feelings. 

But  the  excitement  and  energy  which  had 
sustained  the  sick  woman  thus  far  had  been  too 
much  for  her;  a  blood  vessel  was  suddenly  rup 
tured,  and  her  mouth  filled  with  blood.  She 
threw  up  her  hands  with  a  slight  cry.  Zeph 
rose  and  rushed  to  the  door,  calling  the  nurse. 

It  was  evident  that  the  end  had  come. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

THE  FUNERAL. 

JN  that  morning,  before  Dr.  Gushing 
had  left  the  Parsonage  to  go  to  the 
bedside  of  his  dying  parishioner,  Dolly, 
always  sympathetic  in  all  that  ab 
sorbed  her  parents,  had  listened  to  the  conver 
sation  and  learned  how  full  of  peace  and  joy 
were  those  last  days. 

When  her  father  was  gone,  Dolly  took  her 
little  basket  and  went  out  into  the  adjoining 
meadow  for  wild  strawberries.  The  afternoon 
was  calm  and  lovely;  small  patches  of  white 
cloud  were  drifting  through  the  intense  blue 
sky,  and  little  flutters  of  breeze  shook  the 
white  hats  of  the  daisies  as  she  wandered  hither 
and  thither  among  them  looking  for  the  straw 
berries.  Over  on  the  tallest  twig  of  the  apple- 
tree  in  the  corner  of  the  lot  a  bobolink  had 
seated  himself,  swinging  and  fluttering  up  and 
down,  beating  his  black  and  white  wings  and 
singing  a  confused  lingo  about  "  sweetmeats 
and  sweetmeats,"  and  "  cheer  'em  and  cheer 
'em." 

This  ,  bobolink  was  one   of  Dolly's  special  ac- 

280 


THE  FUNERAL.  281 

quaintanccs.  She  had  often  seen  him  perched 
on  this  particular  twig  of  the  old  apple-tree, 
doubtless  because  of  a  nest  and  family  estab 
lishment  that  he  had  somewhere  in  that  neigh 
borhood,  and  she  had  learned  to  imitate  his 
jargon  as  she  crept  about  in  the  tall  grass;  and 
so  they  two  sometimes  kept  up  quite  a  lively 
conversation. 

But  this  afternoon  she  was  in  no  mood  for 
chattering  with  the  bobolink,  for  the  strings  of 
a  higher  nature  than  his  had  been  set  vibrating; 
she  was  in  a  sort  of  plaintive,  dreamy  revery— 
so  sorry  for  poor  Nabby,  who  was  going  to  lose 
her  mother,  and  so  full  of  awe  and  wonder  at 
the  bright  mystery  now  opening  on  the  soul 
that  was  passing  away. 

Dolly  had  pondered  that  verse  of  her  cate 
chism  which  says  that  "the  souls  of  believers 
at  their  death  are  made  perfect  in  holiness,  and 
do  immediately  pass  into  glory,"  and  of  what 
that  unknown  glory,  that  celestial  splendor,  could 
be  she  had  many  thoughts  and  wonderings. 

She  had  devoured  with  earnest  eyes  Bunyan's 
vivid  description  of  the  triumphal  ascent  to  the 
Celestial  City  through  the  River  of  Death,  and 
sometimes  at  evening,  when  the  west  was  piled 
with  glorious  clouds  which  the  setting  sun 
changed  into  battlements  and  towers  of  silvered 
gold,  Dolly  thought  she  could  fancy  it  was 


282  THE  FUNERAL. 

something  like  that  beautiful  land.  Now  it 
made  her  heart  thrill  to  think  that  one  she  had 
known  only  a  little  while  before — a  meek,  quiet, 
patient,  good  woman — was  just  going  to  enter 
upon  such  glory  and  splendor,  to  wear  those 
wonderful  white  robes  and  sing  that  wonderful 
song. 

She  filled  her  basket  and  then  sat  down  to 
think  about  it.  She  lay  back  on  the  ground 
and  looked  up  through  the  white  daisies  into 
the  deep  intense  blue  of  the  sky,  wondering 
with  a  vague  yearning,  and  wishing  that  she 
could  go  there  too  and  see  what  it  was  all  like. 
Just  then,  vibrating  through  the  sunset  air,  came 
the  plaintive  stroke  of  the  old  Meeting-house 
bell.  Dolly  knew  what  that  sound  meant — a  soul 
"made  perfect  in  holiness"  had  passed  into  glory; 
and  with  a  solemn  awe  she  listened  as  stroke 
after  stroke  tolled  out  the  years  of  that  patient 
earth-life,  noAV  forever  past. 

It  was  a  thrilling  mystery  to  think  of  where 
s/ie.now  was.  She  knew  all  now!  she  had  seen! 
she  had  heard !  she  had  entered  in !  Oh,  what 
joy  and  wonder ! 

Dolly  asked  herself  should  she  too  ever  be  so 
happy — she,  poor  little  Dolly  ;  if  she  went  up  to 
the  beautiful  gate,  would  they  let  her  in?  Her 
father  and  mother  would  certainly  go  there; 
and  they  would  surely  want  her  too:  couldn't 


THE  FUNERAL.  283 

she  go  in  with  them  ?  So  thought  Dolly,  vaguely 
dreaming,  with  the  daisy-heads  nodding  over 
her,  and  the  bobolink  singing,  and  the  bell  toll 
ing,  while  the  sun  was  sinking  in  the  west.  At 
last  she  heard  her  father  calling  her  at  the 
fence,  and  made  haste  to  take  up  her  basket 
and  run  to  him. 

The  day  but  one  after  this  Dolly  went  with 
her  father  and  mother  to  the  funeral.  Funerals 
in  those  old  days  had  no  soothing  accessories. 
People  had  not  then  learned  to  fill  their  houses 
with  flowers,  and  soften  by  every  outward  ap 
pliance  the  deadly  severity  of  the  hard  central 
fact  of  utter  separation. 

The  only  leaves  ever  used  about  the  dead  in 
those  days  were  the  tansy  and  rosemary — bitter 
herbs  of  affliction.  Every  pleasant  thing  in  the 
house  was  shrouded  in  white;  every  picture 
and  looking-glass  in  its  winding-sheet.  The 
coffin  was  placed  open  in  the  best  front  room, 
and  the  mourners,  enveloped  in  clouds  of  black 
crape,  sat  around.  The  house  on  this  occasion 
was  crowded;  wagons  came  from  far  and  near; 
the  lower  rooms  were  all  open  and  filled,  and 
Dr.  Cushing's  voice  came  faintly  and  plaintively 
through  the  hush  of  silence. 

He  spoke  tenderly  of  the  departed  :-  "  We  have 
seen  our  sister  for  many  weeks  waiting  in  the 
land  of  Beulah  by  the  River  of  Death.  Angels 


284  THE  FUNERAL. 

have  been  coming  across  to  visit  her;  we  have 
heard  the  flutter  of  their  wings.  We  have  seen 
her  rejoicing  in  full  assurance  of  hope,  having 
laid  down  every  earthly  care ;  we  have  seen  her 
going  down  the  dark  valley,  leaning  on  the  Be^ 
loved  ;  and  now  that  we  have  met  to  pay  the  last 
tribute  to  her  memory,  shall  it  be  with  tears 
alone?  If  we  love  our  sister,  shall  we  not  rejoice 
because  she  has  gone  to  the  Father?  She  has 
gone  where  there  is  no  more  sickness,  no  more 
pain,  no  more  sorrow,  no  more  death,  and  she 
shall  be  ever  with  the  Lord.  Let  us  rejoice, 
then,  and  give  thanks  unto  God,  who  hath  given 
her  the  victory,  and  let  us  strive  like  her,  by  pa 
tient  continuance  in  well-doing,  to  seek  for  glory 
and  honor  and  immortality." 

And  then  arose  the   solemn  warble  of  the  old 
funeral  hymn: 

"  Why  should  we  mourn  departing  friends 

Or  shake  at  death's  alarms  ? 
'Tis  but  the  voice  that  Jesus  sends 
To  call  them  to  his  arms. 

"  Why  should  we  tremble  to  convey 

Their  bodies  to  the  tomb? 
There  the  dear  form  of  Jesus  lay, 
And  scattered  all  the  gloom. 

"  Thence  He  arose,  ascending  high, 
And  showed  our  feet  the  way ; 
Up  to  the  Lord  we,  too,  shall  fly 
At  the  great  rising  day. 


THE  FUNERAL.  2g5 

"  Then  let  the  last  loud  trumpet  sound, 

And  bid  our  kindred  rise  ; 
Awake  !  ye  nations  under  ground  ; 
Ye  saints !  ascend  the  skies  !" 

The  old  tune  of  "  China,"  with  its  weird  ar 
rangement  of  parts,  its  mournful  yet  majestic 
movement,  was  well  fitted  to  express  that  mys 
terious  defiance  of  earth's  bitterest  sorrow,  that 
solemn  assurance  of  victory  over  life's  deepest 
anguish,  which  breathes  in  those  words.  It  is 
the  major  key  invested  with  all  the  mournful 
pathos  of  the  minor,  yet  breathing  a  grand  sus 
tained  undertone  of  triumph — fit  voice  of  that 
only  religion  which  bids  the  human  heart  rejoice 
in  sorrow  and  glory  in  tribulation. 

Then  came  the  prayer,  in  which  the  feelings 
of  the   good    man,    enkindled    by  sympathy  and  L 
faith,  seemed  to  bear  up  sorrowing  souls,  as  on 
mighty  wings,  into  the  regions  of  eternal  peace. 

In  a  general  way  nothing  can  be  more  impress 
ive,  more  pathetic  and  beautiful,  than  the  Epis 
copal  Church  funeral  service,  but  it  had  been  one 
of  the  last  requests  of  the  departed  that  her  old 
pastor  should  minister  at  her  funeral ;  and  there 
are  occasions  when  an  affectionate  and  devout 
man,  penetrated  with  human  sympathy,  can  utter 
prayers  such  as  no  liturgy  can  equal.  There  are 
prayers  springing  heavenward  from  devout  hearts 
that  are  as  much  superior  to  all  written  ones  as 


286  THE  FUNERAL. 

living,  growing  flowers  out-bloom  the  dried  treas 
ures  of  the  herbarium.  Not  always,  not  by  every 
one,  come  these  inspirations ;  too  often  what  is 
called  extemporary  prayer  is  but  a  form,  differing 
from  the  liturgy  of  the  church  only  in  being 
poorer  and  colder. 

But  the  prayer  of  Dr.  Gushing  melted  and  con 
soled  ;  it  was  an  uplift  from  the  darkness  of  earthly 
sorrow  into  the  grand  certainties  of  the  unseen; 
it  had  the  undertone  that  can  be  given  only  by  a 
faith  to  which  the  invisible  is  even  more  real  than 
the  things  that  are  seen. 

After  the  prayer  one  and  another  of  the  com 
pany  passed  through  the  room  to  take  the  last 
look  at  the  dead.  Death  had  touched  her  gently. 
As  often  happens  in  the  case  of  aged  people, 
there  had  come  back  to  her  face  something  of 
the  look  or  youth,  something  which  told  of  a 
delicate,  lily-like  beauty  which  had  long  been 
faded.  There  was  too  that  mysterious  smile, 
that  expression  of  rapturous  repose,  which  is  the 
seal  of  heaven  set  on  the  earthly  clay.)  It  seemed 
as  if  the  softly-closed  eyes  must  be  gazing  on 
some  ineffable  vision  of  bliss,  as  if,  indeed,  the 
beauty  of  the  Lord  her  God  was  upon  her. 

Among  the  mourners  at  the  head  of  the  coffin 
sat  Zeph  Higgins,  like  some  rugged  gray  rock — 
stony,  calm  and  still.  He  shed  no  tear,  while 
his  children  wept  and  sobbed  aloud ;  only  when 


THE  FUNERAL.  287 

the  coffin-lid  was  put  on  a  convulsive  movement 
passed  across  his  face.  But  it  was  momentary, 
and  he  took  his  place  in  the  procession  to  walk 
to  the  grave  in  grim  calmness. 

The  graveyard  was  in  a  lovely  spot  on  the 
Poganuc  River.  No  care  in  those  days  had  been 
bestowed  to  ornament  or  brighten  these  last 
resting-places,  but  Nature  had  taken  this  in  hand 
kindly.  The  blue  glitter  of  the  river  sparkled 
here  and  there  through  a  belt  of  pines  and  hem 
locks  on  one  side,  and  the  silent  mounds  were 
sheeted  with  daisies,  brightened  now  and  then 
with  golden  buttercups,  which  bowed  their  fair 
heads  meekly  as  the  funeral  train  passed  over 
them. 

Arrived  at  the  grave,  there  followed  the  usual 
sounds,  so  terrible  to  the  ear  of  mourners — the 
setting  down  of  the  coffin,  the  bustle  of  prepara 
tion,  the  harsh  grating  of  ropes  as  the  precious 
burden  was  lowered  to  its  last  resting-place. 
And  then,  standing  around  the  open  grave,  they 
sang: 

11  My  flesh  shall  slumber  in  the  ground 
Till  the  last  trumpet's  joyful  sound. 
Then  burst  the  chains,  with  sweet  surprise, 
And  in  my  Saviour's  image  rise/' 

Then  rose  the  last  words  of  prayer,  in  which 
the  whole  finished  service  and  all  the  survivors 
were  commended  to  God. 

It  was  customary  in  those  days  for  the  head  of 


288  THE  FUNERAL. 

a  family  to  return  thanks  at  the  grave  to  the 
friends  and  neighbors  who  had  joined  in  the  last 
tribute  of  respect  to  the  departed.  There  was  a 
moment's  pause,  and  every  eye  turned  on  Zeph 
Higgins.  He  made  a  movement  and  stretched 
out  his  hands  as  if  to  speak;  but  his  voice  failed 
him,  and  he  stopped.  His  stern  features  were  con 
vulsed  with  the  vain  effort  to  master  his  feeling. 

Dr.  Gushing  saw  his  emotion  and  said,  "  In 
behalf  of  our  brother  I  return  thanks  to  all  the 
friends  who  have  given  us  their  support  and  sym 
pathy  on  this  occasion.  Let  us  all  pray  that  the 
peace  of  God  may  rest  upon  this  afflicted  family." 
The  gathered  friends  now  turned  from  the  grave 
and  dispersed  homeward. 

With  the  instinct  of  a  true  soul-physician,  who 
divines  mental  states  at  a  glance,  Dr.  Gushing 
forbore  to  address  even  a  word  to  Zeph  Hig 
gins  ;  he  left  him  to  the  inward  ministration  of 
a  higher  Power. 

But  such  tact  and  reticence  belong  only  to 
more  instructed  natures.  There  are  never  want 
ing  well-meaning  souls  who,  with  the  very  best 
intentions,  take  hold  on  the  sensitive  nerves  of 
sorrow  with  a  coarse  hand. 

Deacon  Peaslee  was  inwardly  shocked  to  see 
that  no  special  attempt  had  been  made  to  "im 
prove  the  dispensation"  to  Zeph's  spiritual  state, 
and  therefore  felt  called  on  to  essay  his  skill. 


THE  FUNERAL. 


289 


"  Well,  my  friend,"  he  said,  coming  up  to  him, 
"  I  trust  this  affliction  may  be  sanctified  to 
you." 

Zeph  glared  on  him  with  an  impatient  move 
ment  and  turned  to  walk  away ;  the  Deacon, 
however,  followed  assiduously  by  his  side,  going 
on  with  his  exhortation. 

"You  know  it's  no  use  contendin'  with  the 
Lord." 

"Well,  who's  ben  a  contendin'  with  the  Lord?" 
exclaimed  Zeph,  "  I  haint." 

The  tone  and  manner  were  not  hopeful,  but 
the  Deacon  persevered. 

"We  must  jest  let  the  Lord  do  what  he  will 
with  us  and  ours." 

"I  hev  let  him — how  was  I  goin'  to  help  it?" 

"  We  mustn't  murmur,"  continued  the  Deacon 
in  a  feebler  voice,  as  he  saw  that  his  exhorta 
tion  was  not  hopefully  received. 

"Who's  ben  a  murmurin?     /  haint!" 

"Then  you  feel  resigned,  don't  you?" 

"I  can't  help  myself.  I've  got  to  make  the 
best  on  't,"  said  Zeph,  trying  to  out-walk  him. 

"But  you  know  " 

"LET  ME  ALONE,  can't  ye?"  cried  Zeph  in  a 
voice  of  thunder;  and  the  Deacon,  scared  and 
subdued,  dropped  behind,  murmuring,  "  Drefful 
state  o'  mind !  poor  critter,  so  unreconciled  !— 
really  awful !" 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

DOLLY  AT  THE  WICKET  GATE. 

JHE   next   Sunday  rose  calm   and  quiet 
over  the  hills  of  Poganuc. 

There  was  something  almost  preter 
natural  in  the  sense  of  stillness  and 
utter  repose  which  the  Sabbath  day  used  to 
bring  with  it  in  those  early  times.  The  abso 
lute  rest  from  every  earthly  employment,  the 
withholding  even  of  conversation  from  temporal 
things,  marked  it  off  from  all  other  days.  To 
the  truly  devout  the  effect  was  something  the 
same  as  if  the  time  had  been  spent  in  heaven. 
On  this  particular  dewy,  fresh  summer  morn 
ing  it  seemed  as  if  Nature  herself  were  hushing 
her  breath  to  hear  the  music  of  a  higher  sphere. 
Dolly  stood  at  her  open  window  looking  out  on 
the  wooded  hills  opposite,  feathered  with  their 
varied  green,  on  the  waving  meadows  with  their 
buttercups  and  daisies,  on  the  old  apple  tree 
in  the  corner  of  the  lot  where  the  bobolink  was 
tilting  up  and  down,  chattering  and  singing  with 
all  his  might.  She  was  thinking  of  what  she  had 

heard  her  father  saying  to  her  mother  at  break- 
290 


DOLLY  AT   THE    WICKET  GATE.  2gi 

fast:  how  the  sickness  and  death  of  one  good 
woman  had  been  blessed  to  all  that  neighbor 
hood,  and  how  a  revival  of  religion  was  un 
doubtedly  begun  there. 

All  this  made  Dolly  very  serious.  She  thought 
a  great  deal  about  heaven,  and  perfectly  longed 
to  be  quite  sure  she  ever  should  get  there.  She 
often  had  wished  that  there  were  such  a  thing 
in  reality  as  a  Wicket  Gate,  and  an  old  Inter 
preter's  house,  and  a  Palace  Beautiful,  for  then 
she  would  set  right  off  on  her  pilgrimage  at 
once,  and  in  time  get  to  the  Celestial  City.  But 
how  to  get  this  spiritual,  intangible  prepara 
tion  she  knew  not.  To-day  she  knew  was  a 
sacramental  Sunday,  and  she  should  see  all  the 
good  people  taking  that  sacrificial  bread  and 
wine,  but  she  should  be  left  out. 

And  how  to  get  in!  There  were  no  Sunday- 
schools  in  those  days,  no  hymns  or  teachings 
specially  adapted  to  the  child ;  and  Dolly  re 
membered  to  have  heard  serious  elderly  people 
tell  of  how  they  were  brought  "under  convic 
tion  "  and  suffered  for  days  and  weeks  before 
the  strange  secret  of  mercy  was  revealed  to 
them,  and  she  wondered  how  she  ever  should 
get  this  conviction  of  sin.  Poor  Dolly  had  often 
tried  to  feel  very  solemn  and  sad  and  gloomy, 
and  to  think  herself  a  dreadful  sinner,  but  had 
never  succeeded.  She  was  so  young  and  so 


292 


DOLLY  AT   THE    WICKET  GATE. 


healthy — the  blood  raced  and  tingled  so  in  her 
young  veins ;  and  if  she  was  pensive  and  sad  a 
little  while,  yet,  the  first  she  knew,  she  would 
find  herself  racing  after  Spring,  or  calling  to 
her  brothers,  or  jumping  up  and  down  with  her 
skipping  rope,  and  feeling  full  as  airy  and  gay 
as  the  bobolink  across  in  the  meadow.  This 
morning  she  was  trying  her  best  to  feel  her 
sins  and  count  them  up;  but  the  birds  and  the 
daisies  and  the  flowers  were  a  sad  interruption, 
and  she  went  to  meeting  quite  dissatisfied. 

When  she  saw  the  white  simple  table  and  the 
shining  cups  and  snowy  bread  of  the  Communion 
she  inly  thought  that  the  service  could  have 
nothing  for  her — it  would  be  all  for  those  grown 
up,  initiated  Christians.  Nevertheless,  when  her 
father  began  to  speak  she  was  drawn  to  listen  to 
him  by  a  sort  of  pathetic  earnestness  in  his  voice. 

The  Doctor  was  feeling  very  earnestly  and 
deeply,  and  he  had  chosen  a  theme  to  awaken 
responsive  feeling  in  his  church.  His  text  was 
the  declaration  of  Jesus :  "  I  call  you  not  servants, 
but  friends;"  and  his  subject  was  Jesus  as  the 
soul-friend  offered  to  every  human  being.  For 
getting  his  doctrinal  subtleties,  he  spoke  with  all 
the  simplicity  and  tenderness  of  a  rich  nature 
concerning  the  faithful,  generous,  tender  love  of 
Christ,  how  he  cared  for  the  soul's  wants,  how 
he  was  patient  with  its  errors,  how  he  gently  led 


DOLLY  AT   THE    WICKET  GATE.  293 

it  along  the  way  of  right,  how  he  was  always 
with  it,  teaching  its  ignorance,  guiding  its  wan 
derings,  comforting  its  sorrows,  with  a  love  un 
wearied  by  faults,  unchilled  by  ingratitude,  till 
he  brought  it  through  the  darkness  of  earth  to 
the  perfection  of  heaven. 

Real,  deep,  earnest  feeling  inclines  to  simplicity 
of  language,  and  the  Doctor  spoke  in  words  that 
even  a  child  could  understand.  Dolly  sat  ab 
sorbed,  her  large  blue  eyes  gathering  tears  as 
she  listened ;  and  when  the  Doctor  said,  "  Come, 
then,  and  trust  your  soul  to  this  faithful  Friend," 
Dolly's  little  heart  throbbed  "  I  will."  And  she 
did.  For  a  moment  she  was  discouraged  by  the 
thought  that  she  had  not  had  any  conviction  of 
sin ;  but  like  a  flash  came  the  thought  that  Jesus 
could  give  her  that  as  well  as  anything  else,  and 
that  she  could  trust  him  for  the  whole.  And  so 
her  little  earnest  child-soul  went  out  to  the  won 
derful  Friend.  She  sat  through  the  sacramental 
service  that  followed,  with  swelling  heart  and 
tearful  eyes,  and  walked  home  filled  with  a  new 
joy.  She  went  up  to  her  father's  study  and  fell 
into  his  arms,  saying,  "  Father,  I  have  given 
myself  to  Jesus,  and  he  has  taken  me." 

The  Doctor  held  her  silently  to  his  heart  a 
moment,  and  his  tears  dropped  on  her  head. 

"  Is  it  so?"  he  said.  "  Then  has  a  new  flower 
blossomed  in  the  Kingdom  this  day.:' 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

THE   CONFLICT. 

]HERE  is  one  class  of  luckless  mortals 
in  this  world  of  ours  whose  sorrows, 
though  often  more  real  than  those  of 
other  people,  never  bring  them  any 
sympathy  It  is  those  in  whom  suffering  ex 
cites  an  irritating  conflict,  which  makes  them 
intolerable  to  themselves  and  others.  The  more 
they  suffer  the  more  severe,  biting  and  bitter 
become  their  words  and  actions.  The  very  sym 
pathy  they  long  for,  by  a  strange  contrariness 
of  nature  they  throw  back  on  their  friends  as 
an  injury.  Nobody  knows  where  to  have  them, 
or  how  to  handle  them,  and  when  everybody 
steers  away  from  them  they  are  inwardly  deso 
late  at  their  loneliness. 

After  the  funeral  train  had  borne  away  from 
the  old  brown  farm-house  the  silent  form  of 
her  who  was  its  peace,  its  light,  its  comfort, 
Zeph  Higgins  wandered  like  an  unquiet  spirit 
from  room  to  room,  feeling  every  silent  memo 
rial  of  her  who  was  no  longer  there  as  a  stab 
in  the  yet  throbbing  wound.  Unlovely  people 
294 


THE   CONFLICT.  29 tj 

are  often  cursed  with  an  intense  desire  to  be 
loved,  and  the  more  unlovely  they  grow  the 
more  intense  becomes  this  desire.  His  love  for 
his  wife  had  been  unusually  strong  in  the  sense 
of  what  is  often  called  loving — that  is,  he  needed 
her,  depended  on  her,  and  could  not  do  without 
her.  He  was  always  sure  that  she  loved  him; 
he  was  always  sure  of  her  patient  ear  to  what 
ever  he  wished  to  say,  of  her  wish  to  do  to  her 
utmost  whatever  he  wanted  her  to  do.  Then 
he  was  not  without  a  certain  sense  of  the  beauty 
and  purity  of  her  character,  and  had  a  sort  of 
almost  superstitious  confidence  in  her  prayers 
and  goodness,  like  what  the  Italian  peasant  has 
in  his  patron  saint.  He  felt  a  sort  of  helpless 
ness  and  terror  at  the  idea  of  facing  life  without 
her.  Besides  this,  he  was  tormented  by  a  secret 
unacknowledged  sense  of  his  own  unloveliness : 
he  was  angry  with  himself— cursed  himself,  called 
himself  hard  names ;  and  he  who  quarrels  with 
himself  has  this  disadvantage,  that  his  adversary 
is  inseparably  his  companion — lies  down  and 
rises,  eats,  drinks  and  sleeps  with  him. 

What  intensified  this  conflict  was  the  remem 
brance  of  his  wife's  dying  words,  enjoining  on 
him  the  relinquishment  of  the  bitter  quarrel 
which  had  alienated  him  from  his  church  and 
his  neighbors,  and  placed  her  in  so  false  a  posi 
tion. 


296  THE   CONFLICT. 

He  knew  that  he  was  in  the  wrong;  he  knew 
that  she  was  in  the  right,  and  that  those  words 
spoken  on  her  death-bed  were  God's  voice  to 
him.  But  every  nerve  and  fiber  in  him  seemed 
to  rebel  and  resist;  he  would  not  humble  him 
self;  he  would  not  confess;  he  would  not  take 
a  step  toward  reconciliation. 

The  storm  that  was  raging  within  expressed 
itself  outwardly  in  an  impatience  and  irritability 
which  tried  his  children  to  the  utmost.  Poor 
Nabby  did  her  best  to  assume  in  the  family  all 
her  mother's  cares,  but  was  met  at  every  turn 
by  vexatious  fault-finding. 

" There  now!"  he  said,  coming  out  one  morn 
ing,  "  where's  my  stockings?  Everything's  being 
neglected — not  a  pair  to  put  on  !" 

''Oh  yes,  Father,  I  sat  up  and  mended  your 
stockings  last  night  before  I  went  to  bed.  I 
didn't  go  into  your  room,  because  I  was  afraid 
of  waking  you ;  but  here  they  are  on  my  basket." 

"Give  'em  here,  then!"  said  Zeph  harshly. 
"  I  want  my  things  where  I  know  where  they 
are.  Your  mother  always  had  everything  ready 
so  I  didn't  have  to  ask  for  it." 

"  Well,  I  never  shall  be  as  good  as  Mother  if 
I  try  till  I'm  gray,"  said  Nabby,  impatiently. 

"  Don't  you  be  snapping  back  at  me,"  said 
Zeph.  "  But  it's  jest  so  everywhere.  Nobody 
won't  care  for  me  now.  I  don't  expect  it." 


THE   CONFLICT.  297 

"Well,  Father,  I'm  sure  I  try  the  best  I  can, 
and  you  keep  scolding  me  all  the  time.  It's 
discouraging." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I'm  a  devil,  I  suppose.  Everybody's 
right  but  me.  Well,  I  shall  be  out  of  the  way 
one  of  these  days,  and  nobody'll  care.  There 
ain't  a  critter  in  the  world  cares  whether  I'm 
alive  or  dead — not  even  my  own  children." 

The  sparks  flashed  through  the  tears  in 
Nabby's  eyes.  She  was  cut  to  the  soul  by  the 
cruel  injustice  of  these  words,  and  a  hot  and 
hasty  answer  rose  to  her  lips,  but  was  smothered 
in  her  throat. 

Nabby  had  become  one  of  the  converts  of  the 
recently-commenced  revival  of  religion,  and  had 
begun  to  lay  the  discipline  of  the  Christian 
life  on  her  temper  and  her  tongue,  and  found  it 
hard  work.  As  yet  she  had  only  attained  so  far 
as  repression  and  indignant  silence,  while  the 
battle  raged  tempestuously  within. 

"  I'd  like  just  to  go  off  and  leave  things  to  take 
care  of  themselves,"  she  said  to  herself,  "and 
then  he'd  see  whether  I  don't  do  anything.  Try, 
and  try,  and  try,  and  not  a  word  said — nothing 
but  scold,  scold,  scold.  It's  too  bad !  Flesh  and 
blood  can't  stand  everything !  Mother  did,  but 
I  ain't  Mother.  I  must  try  to  be  like  her,  though  ; 
but  it's  dreadful  hard  with  Father.  How  did 
Mother  ever  keep  so  quiet  and  always  be  so 


298  THE   CONFLICT. 

pleasant?  She  used — to  pray  a  great  deal. 
Well,  I  must  pray." 

Yet  if  Nabby  could  have  looked  in  at  that 
moment  and  seen  the  misery  in  her  father's  soul 
her  indignation  would  have  been  lost  in  pity ; 
for  Zeph  in  his  heart  knew  that  Nabby  was  a 
good,  warm-hearted  girl,  honestly  trying  her 
very  best  to  make  her  mother's  place  good.  He 
knew  it,  and  when  he  was  alone  and  quiet  he  felt 
it  so  that  tears  came  to  his  eyes ;  and  yet  this  mis 
erable,  irritable  demon  that  possessed  him  had  led 
him  to  say  these  cruel  words  to  her — words  that 
he  cursed  himself  for  saying,  the  hour  after.  But 
on  this  day  the  internal  conflict  was  raging 
stronger  than  ever.  The  revival  in  the  neighbor 
hood  was  making  itself  felt  and  talked  about,  and 
the  Friday  evening  prayer-meeting  in  the  school- 
house  was  at  hand. 

Zeph  was  debating  with  himself  whether  he 
would  take  the  first  step  towards  reconciliation 
with  his  church  by  going  to  it.  His  wife's  dying 
words  haunted  him,  and  he  thought  he  might  at 
least  go  as  far  as  this  in  the  right  direction ;  but 
the  mere  suggestion  of  the  first  step  roused  a 
perfect  whirlwind  of  opposition  within  him. 

Certain  moral  conditions  are  alike  in  all  minds, 
and  this  stern,  gnarled,  grizzled  old  New  England 
farmer  had  times  when  -he  felt  exactly  as  Milton 
has  described  a  lost  archangel  as  feeling: 


THE   CONFLICT.  2gg 

"  Oh,  then,  at  last  relent  !  Is  there  no  place 
Left  for  repentance  ?  none  for  pardon  left  ? 
None  left  but  by  submission,  and  that  word 
Disdain  forbids  me  and  my  dread  of  shame." 

It  is  curious  that  men  are  not  generally 
ashamed  of  any  form  of  anger,  wrath  or  malice ; 
but  of  the  first  step  towards  a  nobler  nature — the 
confession  of  a  wrong — they  are  ashamed. 

Never  had  Zeph  been  more  intolerable  and 
unreasonable  to  his  sons  in  the  field-work  than 
on  this  day. 

He  was  too  thoroughly  knit  up  in  the  habits 
of  a  Puritan  education  to  use  any  form  of  profane 
language,  but  no  man  knew  so  well  how  to  pro 
duce  the  startling  effect  of  an  oath  without  swear 
ing;  and  this  day  he  drove  about  the  field  in 
such  a  stormy  manner  that  his  sons,  accustomed 
as  they  were  to  his  manners,  were  alarmed. 

"  Tell  you  what/'  said  one  of  the  boys  to 
Abner,  "  the  old  man's  awful  cranky  to-day, 
Reely  seems  as  if  he  was  a  little  bit  sprung.  I 
don't  know  but  he's  going  crazy!" 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

THE    CRISIS. 

]T  was  a  warm,  soft  June  evening. 
The  rosy  tints  of  sunset  were  just 
merging-  into  brown  shadows  over  the 
landscape,  the  frogs  peeped  and  gur 
gled  in  the  marshes,  and  the  whippoorwills  were 
beginning  to  answer  each  other  from  the  thick 
recesses  of  the  trees,  when  the  old  ministerial 
chaise  of  Dr.  Gushing  might  have  been  seen 
wending  its  way  up  the  stony  road  to  the  North 
Poganuc  school-house. 

The  Doctor  and  his  wife  were  talking  confi 
dentially,  and  Dolly,  seated  between  them,  en 
tered  with  eager  sympathy  into  all  they  were 
saying. 

They  were  very  happy,  with  a  simple,  honest, 
earnest  happiness,  for  they  hoped  that  the  great 
object  of  his  life  and  labors  was  now  about  to 
be  accomplished,  that  the  power  of  a  Divine  In 
fluence  was  descending  to  elevate  and  purify 
and  lift  the  souls  of  his  people  to  God. 

"My  dear,  I  no  longer  doubt,"  he  said.    "The 

presence,  of  the    Lord   is   evidently  with  us.     If 
300 


THE   CASSIS. 


301 


only  the  church  will  fully  awaken  to  their  duty 
we  may  hope  for  a  harvest  now." 

"What  a  pity,'  answered  Mrs.  Gushing-,  "that 
that  old  standing-  quarrel  of  Zeph  Higgins  and 
the  church  cannot  be  made  up;  his  children  are 
all  deeply  interested  in  religion,  but  he  stands 
right  in  their  way." 

"  Why  don't  you  talk  to  him,  Papa  ?"  asked 
Dolly. 

"  Nobody  can  speak  to  him  but  God,  my 
child;  there's  a  man  that  nobody  knows  how 
to  approach." 

Dolly  reflected  silently  on  this  for  some  min 
utes,  and  then  said, 

"  Papa,  do  you  suppose  Christ  loves  him  ? 
Did  he  die  for  him  ?" 

"Yes,  my  child.  Christ  loved  and  died  for 
all." 

"Do  you  think  he  believes  that?"  asked  Dolly, 
earnestly. 

"  I'm  afraid  he  doesn't  think  much  about  it," 
answered  her  father. 

Here  they  came  in  sight  of  the  little  school- 
house.  It  seemed  already  crowded.  Wagons 
were  tied  along  the  road,  and  people  were  stand 
ing  around  the  doors  and  windows. 

The  Doctor  and  Mrs.  Cushing  made  their  way 
through  the  crowd  to  the  seat  behind  the  little 
pine  table.  He  saw  in  the  throng  not  merely 


302  THE   CRISIS. 

the  ordinary  attendance  at  prayer-meetings,  but 
many  of  the  careless  and  idle  class  who  seldom 
were  seen  inside  a  church.  There  were  the 
unusual  faces  of  Abe  Bowles  and  Liph  Kingsley 
and  Mark  Merrill,  who  had  left  '  the  seduc 
tions  of  Glazier's  bar-room  to  come  over  and  see 
whether  there  was  really  any  revival  at  North 
Poganuc,  and  not  perhaps  without  a  secret  in 
ternal  suggestion  that  to  be  converted  would  be 
the  very  best  thing  for  them  temporally  as  well 
as  spiritually.  Liph's  wife,  a  poor,  discouraged, 
forsaken-looking  woman,  had  persuaded  him  to 
come  over  with  her,  and  sat  there  praying,  as 
wives  of  drunken  men  often  pray,  for  some  help 
from  above  to  save  him,  and  her,  and  her  chil 
dren. 

Nothing  could  be  rougher  and  more  rustic 
than  the  old  school-house, — its  walls  hung  with 
cobwebs;  its  rude  slab  benches  and  desks  hacked 
by  many  a  schoolboy's  knife;  the  plain,  ink- 
stained  pine  table  before  the  minister,  with  its 
two  tallow  candles,  whose  dim  rays  scarcely 
gave  light  enough  to  read  the  hymns.  There 
was  nothing  outward  to  express  the  real  great 
ness  of  what  was  there  in  reality. 

There  are  surroundings  that  make  us  realize 
objectively  the  grandeur  of  the  human  soul,  and 
the  sublimity  of  the  possibilities  which  Chris 
tianity  opens  to  it.  The  dim  cathedral,  whose 


THE    CRISIS.  303 

arches  seem  to  ascend  to  the  skies,  from  whose 
distant  recesses  pictured  forms  of  saints  and 
angels  look  down,  whose  far-reaching  aisles  thrill 
with  chants  solemn  and  triumphant,  while  clouds 
of  incense  arise  at  the  holy  altar,  and  white- 
robed  priests  and  kneeling  throngs  prostrate 
themselves  before  the  Invisible  Majesty — all  this 
"pomp  of  dreadful  sacrifice"  enkindles  the  ideas 
of  the  infinite  and  the  eternal,  and  makes  us  feel 
how  great,  how  glorious,  how  mysterious  and 
awful  is  the  destiny  of  man. 

But  the  New  England  Puritan  had  put  the 
ocean  between  him  and  all  such  scenic  presen 
tations  of  the  religious  life.  He  had  renounced 
every  sensuous  aid,  and  tasked  himself  to  bring 
their  souls  to  face  the  solemn  questions  of  exist 
ence  and  destiny  in  their  simple  nakedness,  with 
out  drapery  or  accessories ;  there  were  times  in 
the  life  of  an  earnest  minister  when  these  truths 
were  made  so  intensely  vivid  and  effective  as 
to  overbear  all  outward  disadvantages  of  sur 
rounding  ;  and  to-night  the  old  school-house, 
though  rude  and  coarse  as  the  manger  of  Beth 
lehem,  like  that  seemed  hallowed  by  the  presence 
of  a  God. 

From  the  moment  the  Doctor  entered  he  was 
conscious  of  a  present  Power.  There  was  a  hush, 
a  stillness,  and  the  words  of  his  prayer  seemed  to 
go  out  into  an  atmosphere  thrilling  with  emotion  • 


304  THE   CRISIS. 

and  when  he  rose  to  speak  he  saw  the  counte 
nances  of  his  parishioners  with  that  change  upon 
them  which  comes  from  the  waking  up  of  the 
soul  to  higher  things.  Hard,  weather-beaten 
faces  were  enkindled  and  eager;  every  eye  was 
fixed  upon  him  ;  every  word  he  spoke  seemed  to 
excite  a  responsive  emotion. 

The  Doctor  read  from  the  Old  Testament  the 
story  of  Achan.  He  told  how  the  host  of  the 
Lord  had  been  turned  back  because  there  was 
one  in  the  camp  who  had  secreted  in  his  tent  an 
accursed  thing.  He  asked,  "  Can  it  be  now,  and 
here,  among  us  who  profess  to  be  Christians,  that 
we  are  secreting  in  our  hearts  some  accursed 
thing  that  prevents  the  good  Spirit  of  the  Lord 
from  working  among  us  ?  Is  it  our  pride  ?  Is  it 
our  covetousness  ?  Is  it  our  hard  feeling  against 
a  brother?  Is  there  anything  that  we  know  to 
be  wrong  that  we  refuse  to  make  right — anything 
that  we  know  belongs  to  God  that  we  are  withhold 
ing?  If  we  Christians  lived  as  high  as  we  ought, 
if  we  lived  up  to  our  professions,  would  there  be 
any  sinners  unconverted  ?  Let  us  beware  how  we 
stand  in  the  way.  If  the  salt  have  lost  its  savor 
wherewith  shall  it  be  salted  ?  Oh,  my  brethren, 
let  us  not  hinder  the  work  of  God.  I  look  around 
on  this  circle  and  I  miss  the  face  of  a  sister  that 
was  always  here  to  help  us  with  her  prayers ; 
now  she  is  with  the  general  assembly  and  church 


THE   CRISIS.  305 

of  the  first-born,  whose  names  are  written  in 
heaven,  with  the  spirits  of  the  just  made  perfect. 
But  her  soul  will  rejoice  with  the  angels  of  God 
if  she  looks  down  and  sees  us  all  coming  up  to 
where  we  ought  to  be.  God  grant  that  her 
prayers  may  be  fulfilled  in  us.  Let  us  examine 
ourselves,  brethren ;  let  us  cast  out  the  stumbling- 
block,  that  the  way  of  the  Lord  may  be  pre 
pared." 

The  words,  simple  in  themselves,  became  power 
ful  by  the  atmosphere  of  deep  feeling  into  which 
they  were  uttered  ;  there  were  those  solemn 
pauses,  that  breathless  stillness,  those  repressed 
breathings,  that  magnetic  sympathy  that  unites 
souls  under  the  power  of  one  overshadowing 
conviction. 

When  the  Doctor  sat  down  suddenly  there 
was  a  slight  movement,  and  from  a  dark  back 
seat  rose  the  gaunt  form  of  Zeph  Higgins.  He 
was  deathly  pale,  and  his  form  trembled  with 
emotion.  Every  eye  was  fixed  upon  him,  and 
people  drew  in  their  breath,  with  involuntary 
surprise  and  suspense. 

"Wai,  I  must  speak,"  he  said.  "/';«  a  stum 
bling-block.  I've  allers  ben  one.  I  hain't  never 
ben  a  Christian — that's  jest  the  truth  on't.  I 
never  hed  oughter  'a*  ben  in  the  church.  I've 
ben  all  wrong — wrong — WRONG!  I  knew  I  was 
wrong,  but  I  wouldn't  give  up.  It's  ben  jest  my 


306 


THE   CRISIS. 


awful  WILL.  I've  set  up  my  will  agin  God  Al 
mighty.  I've  set  it  agin  my  neighbors — agin  the 
minister  and  agin  the  church.  And  now  the 
Lord's  come  out  agin  me ;  he's  struck  me  down. 
I  know  he's  got  a  right — he  can  do  what  he 
pleases — but  I  ain't  resigned — not  a  grain.  I 
submit  'cause  I  can't  help  myself;  but  my  heart's 
hard  and  wicked.  I  expect  my  day  of  grace  is 
over.  I  ain't  a  Christian,  and  I  can't  be,  and  I 
shall  go  to  hell  at  last,  and  sarve  me  right!" 

And  Zeph  sat  down,  grim  and  stony,  and  the 
neighbors  looked  one  on  another  in  a  sort  of  con 
sternation.  There  was  a  terrible  earnestness  in 
those  words  that  seemed  to  appall  every  one  and 
prevent  any  from  uttering  the  ordinary  common 
places  of  religious  exhortation.  For  a  few  mo 
ments  the  circle  was  silent  as  the  grave,  when  Dr. 
Gushing  said,  "  Brethren,  let  us  pray ;"  and  in  his 
prayer  he  seemed  to  rise  above  earth'  and  draw 
his  whole  flock,  with  all  their  sins  and  needs  and 
wants,  into  the  presence-chamber  of  heaven. 

He  prayed  that  the  light  of  heaven  might  shine 
into  the  darkened  spirit  of  their  brother ;  that  he 
might  give  himself  up  utterly  to  the  will  of  God ; 
that  we  might  all  do  it,  that  we  might  become  as 
little  children  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven;  With 
the  wise  tact  which  distinguished  his  ministry  he 
closed  the  meeting  immediately  after  the  prayer 
with  one  or  two  serious  words  of  exhortation. 


THE   CRISIS.  307 

He  feared  lest  what  had  been  gained  in  impres 
sion  might  be  talked  away  did  he  hold  the 
meeting  open  to  the  well-meant,  sincere  but  un- 
'  instructed  efforts  of  the  brethren  to  meet  a  case 
like  that  which  had  been  laid  open  before  them. 

After  the  service  was  over  and  the  throng 
slowly  dispersed,  Zeph  remained  in  his  place,  rigid 
and  still.  One  or  two  approached  to  speak  to 
'  him  ;  there  was  in  fact  a  tide  of  genuine  sympathy 
and  brotherly  feeling  that  longed  to  express  itself. 
He  might  have  been  caught  up  in  this  powerful 
current  and  borne  into  a  haven  of  peace,  had  he 
been  one  to  trust  himself  to  the  help  of  others : 
but  he  looked  neither  to  the  right  nor  to  the 
left ;  his  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  floor ;  his  brown, 
bony  hands  held  his  old  straw  hat  in  a  crushing 
grasp ;  his  whole  attitude  and  aspect  were  repel 
ling  and  stern  to  such  a  degree  that  none  dared 
address  him. 

The  crowd  slowly  passed  on  and  out.  Zeph 
sat  alone,  as  he  thought;  but  the  minister,  his 
wife,  and  little  Dolly  had  remained  at  the  upper 
end  of  the  room.  Suddenly,  as  if  sent  by  an 
irresistible  impulse,  Dolly  stepped  rapidly  down 
the  room  and  with  eager  gaze  laid  her  pretty 
little  timid  hand  upon  his  shoulder,  crying,  in  a 
voice  tremulous  at  once  with  fear  and  with  inten 
sity,  "  O,  why  do  you  say  that  you  can  not  be  a 
Christian?  Don't  you  know  that  Christ  loves  you?" 


do  8  THE   CRISIS. 

o 

Christ  loves  you  !  The  words  thrilled  through 
his  soul  with  a  strange,  new  power  ;  he  opened 
his  eyes  and  looked  astonished  into  the  little  ear 
nest,  pleading  face. 

"  Christ  loves  you,"  she  repeated;  "oh,  do  be 
lieve  it!" 

"  Loves  me  /  "  he  said,  slowly.  "  Why  should 
he?" 

"  But  he  does ;  he  loves  us  all.  He  died  for  us. 
He  died  for  you.  Oh,  believe  it.  He'll  help  you; 
he'll  make  you  feel  right.  Only  trust  him.  Please 
say  you  will!" 

Zeph  looked  at  the  little  face  earnestly,  in  a 
softened,  wondering  way.  A  tear  slowly  stole 
down  his  hard  cheek. 

"  Thank'e,  dear  child,"  he  said. 

"  You  will  believe  it?" 

"  I'll  try." 

"You  will  trust  Him?" 

Zeph  paused  a  moment,  then  rose  up  with  a 
new  and  different  expression  in  his  face,  and  said, 
in  a  subdued  and  earnest  voice,  "I  will." 

"Amen!"  said  the  Doctor,  who  stood  listening; 
and  he  silently  grasped  the  old  man's  hand. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

THE    JOY    OF    HARVEST. 

|HEN  Zeph  turned  from  the  little  red 
school-house  to  go  home,  after  the 
prayer-meeting,  he  felt  that  peace 
which  comes  after  a  great  interior 
crisis  has  passed.  He  had,  for  the  first  time  in 
his  life,  yielded  his  will,  absolutely  and  thor 
oughly.  He  had  humbled  himself,  in  a  public 
confession  of  wrong-doing,  before  all  his  neigh 
bors,  before  those  whom  he  had  felt  to  be  ene 
mies.  He  had  taken  the  step  convulsively, 
unwillingly,  constrained  thereto  by  a  mighty 
overmastering  power  which  wrought  within 
him.  He  had  submitted,  without  love,  to  the 
simple,  stern  voice  of  conscience  and  authority — 
the  submission  of  a  subject  to  a  monarch,  not 
that  of  a  child  to  a  father.  Just  then  and  there, 
when  he  felt  himself  crushed,  lonely,  humbled 
and  despairing,  the  touch  of  that  child's  hand  on 
his,  the  pleading  childish  face,  the  gentle  childish 
voice,  had  spoken  to  him  of  the  love  of  Christ. 
There  are  hard,  sinful,  unlovely  souls,  who  yet 
long  to  be  loved,  who  sigh  in  their  dark  prison 

309 


310  THE   JOY  OF  HARVEST. 

for  that  tenderness,  that  devotion,  of  which  they 
are  consciously  unworthy.  Love  might  redeem 
them  ;  but  who  can  love  them  ?  There  is  a  fable 
of  a  prince  doomed  by  a  cruel  enchanter  to  wear 
a  loathsome,  bestial  form  till  some  fair  woman 
should  redeem  him  by  the  transforming  kiss  of 
love.  The  fable  is  a  parable  of  the  experience 
of  many  a  lost  human  soul. 

The  religion  of  Christ  owes  its  peculiar  power 
to  its  revealing  a  Divine  Lover,  the  one  Only 
Fair,  the  altogether  Beautiful,  who  can  love  the 
unlovely  back  into  perfectness.  The  love  of 
Christ  has  been  the  dissolving  power  that  has 
broken  the  spells  and  enchantments  which  held 
human  souls  in  bondage  and  has  given  them 
power  to  rise  to  the  beauty  and  freedom  of  the 
sons  of  God. 

As  Zeph  walked  homeward  through  the  lonely 
stillness  of  the  night,  again  and  again  the  words 
thrilled  through  his  soul,  "  Christ  loves  you' — and 
such  tears  as  he  had  never  wept  before  stood 
in  his  eyes,  as  he  said  wonderingly,  "  Me — me  ? 
Oh,  is  it  possible?  Can  it  be?"  And  Christ  died 
for  him!  He  had  known  it  all  these  years, 
and  never  thanked  him,  never  loved  him.  The 
rush  of  new  emotion  overpowered  him;  he  en 
tered  his  house,  walked  straight  to  the  great 
family  Bible  that  lay  on  a  stand  in  the  best  room 
of  the  house ;  it  was  the  very  room  where  the 


THE    JOY  OF  HARVEST.  3II 

coffin  of  his  wife  had  stood,  where  he  had  sat, 
stony  and  despairing,  during-  the  funeral  ex 
ercises.  Zeph  opened  the  Bible  at  random  and 
began  turning  the  leaves,  and  his  eye  fell  on 
the  words,  "  Unto  Him  that  LOVED  us  and  washed 
us  from  our  sins  in  his  own  blood  and  hath  made 
us  to  our  God  kings  and  priests,  to  him  be 
glory !"  His  heart  responded  with  a  strange 
new  joy — a  thrill  of  hope  that  he,  too,  might 
be  washed  from  his  sins. 

Who  can  read  the  awful  mysteries  of  a  single 
soul?  We  see  human  beings,  hard,  harsh,  earth 
ly,  and  apparently  without  an  aspiration  for  any 
thing  high  and  holy ;  but  let  us  never  say  that 
there  is  not  far  down  in  the  depths  of  any  soul 
a  smothered  aspiration,  a  dumb  repressed  desire 
to  be  something  higher  and  purer,  to  attain  the 
perfectness  to  which  God  calls  it. 

Zeph  felt  at  this  moment  that  Christ  who  so 
loved  him  could  purify  him,  could  take  away 
his  pride  and  willfulness ;  and  he  fell  on  his  knees, 
praying  without  words,  but  in  the  spirit  of  him 
of  old  who  cried,  "If  thou  wilt,  thou  canst  make 
me  clean."  As  he  prayed  a  great  peace  fell  upon 
him,  a  rest  and  stillness  of  soul  such  as  he  had 
never  felt  before ;  he  lay  down  that  night  and 
slept  the  sleep  of  a  little  child. 

But  when  next  day  Zeph  Higgins  walked  into 
Deacon  Dickenson's  store  and  of  his  own  accord 


3I2  THE   JOY  OF  HARVEST. 

offered  to  put  back  the  water-pipes  that  led  to 
his  spring,  and  to  pay  whatever  cost  and  damage 
the  Deacon  might  have  incurred  in  throwing 
them  out,  there  was  then  no  manner  of  doubt 
that  some  higher  power  than  that  of  man  had 
been  at  work  in  his  soul. 

The  Deacon  himself  was  confounded,  almost 
appalled,  by  the  change  that  had  come  over  his 
neighbor.  He  had  been  saying  all  his  life  that 
the  grace  of  God  could  do  anything  and  convert 
anybody,  but  he  never  expected  to  see  a  conver 
sion  like  that.  Instead  of  grasping  eagerly  at  the 
offered  reparation  he  felt  a  strange  emotion  within 
himself,  a  sort  of  choking  in  his  throat ;  and  now 
that  he  saw  the  brother  with  whom  he  had  con 
tended  yielding  so  unconditionally,  he  began  to 
question  himself  whether  he  had  no  wrong  to 
confess  on  his  side. 

"  Wai  now,  I  expect  I've  ben  wrong  too,"  he 
said.  "  We  ain't  perfectly  sanctified,  none  on  us, 
and  I  know  I  hain't  done  quite  right,  and  I  hain't 
felt  right.  I  got  my  back  up,  and  I've  said  things 
I  hadn't  orter.  Wai,  we'll  shake  hands  on't.  I 
ain't  perticklar  'bout  them  water-pipes  now ;  we'll 
let  bygones  be  bygones." 

But  Zeph  had  set  his  heart  on  reparation,  and 
here  was  a  place  where  the  pertinacity  of  his 
nature  had  an  honest  mission ;  so  by  help  of  ref 
erence  to  one  or  two  neighbors  as  umpires  the 


THE   JOY   OF  HARVEST. 

whole  loss  was  finally  made  good  and  the  long 
standing  controversy  with  all  its  ill-feeling  settled 
and  buried  forever  out  of  sight. 

The  news  of  this  wonderful  change  spread 
through  all  the  town. 

"  I  declar'  for 't,"  said  Liph  Kingsley  to  Bill 
Larkins,  "  this  ere's  a  reel  thing,  and  it's  time 
for  me  to  be  a-thinkin'.  I've  got  a  soul  to  be 
saved  too,  and  I  mean  to  quit  drinkin'  and  seek 
the  Lord." 

"Poh!"  said  Bill,  "you  may  say  so  and  think 
so;  but  you  won't  do  it.  You'll  never  hold  out." 

"  Don't  you  believe  that ;  Christ  will  help  you," 
said  Zeph  Higgins,  who  had  overheard  the  con 
versation.  "  He  has  helped  me ;  he  can  help  you. 
He  can  save  to  the  uttermost.  There  'tis  in  the 
Bible— try  it.  We'll  all  stand  by  ye." 

A  voice  like  this  from  old  Zeph  Higgins  im 
pressed  the  neighbors  as  being  almost  as  much 
of  a  miracle  as  if  one  of  the  gray  cliffs  of  old 
Bluff  Head  had  spoken ;  but  his  heart  was  full, 
and  he  was  ready  everywhere  to  testify  to  the 
love  that  had  redeemed  him.  No  exhorter  in  the 
weekly  prayer-meeting  spoke  words  of  such 
power  as  he. 

The  few  weeks  that  followed  were  marked  in 
the  history  of  the  town.  Everywhere  the  meet 
ings  for  preaching  and  prayer  were  crowded. 
Glazier's  bar-room  was  shut  up  for  want  of 


314  THE    JOY  OF  HARVEST. 

custom,  and  Glazier  himself  renounced  the  sell 
ing-  of  liquor  and  became  one  of  the  converts 
of  the  revival.  For  a  while  every  member  of 
the  church  in  the  village  acted  as  if  the  won- 
derful  things  which  they  all  professed  to  believe 
were  really  true — as  if  there  were  an  immor 
tality  of  glory  to  be  gained  or  lost  by  our  life 
here. 

The  distinction  between  the  aristocracy  of 
Town  Hill  and  the  outlying  democracy  of  the 
farming  people  was  merged  for  the  time  in  a 
sense  of  a  higher  and  holier  union.  Colonel 
Davenport  and  Judge  Gridley  were  seen  with 
Doctor  Gushing  in  the  school-houses  of  the  out 
lying  districts,  exhorting  and  praying,  and  the 
farmers  from  the  distant  hills  crowded  in  to  the 
Town  Hill  meetings.  For  some  weeks  the  multi 
tude  Avas  of  one  heart  and  one  soul.  A  loftier 
and  mightier  influence  overshadowed  them,  un 
der  whose  power  all  meaner  differences  sunk 
out  of  sight.  Such  seasons  as  these  are  like 
warm  showers  that  open  leaf  and  flower,  buds 
that  have  been  long  forming.  Everybody  in 
those  days  that  attended  Christian  services  had 
more  or  less  of  good  purposes,  of  indefinite 
aspiration  to  be  better,  of  intentions  that  related 
to  some  future.  The  revival  brought  these  out 
in  the  form  of  an  immediate  practical  purpose, 
a  definite,  actual  beginning  in  a  new  life. 


THE   JOY  OF  HARVEST.  315 

"Well,  Mother,"  said  Hiel  Jones,  "I've  made 
up  my  mind  to  be  a  Christian.  I've  counted 
the  cost,  and  it  will  cost  something-,  too.  I  was 
a-goin'  up  to  Vermont  to  trade  lor  a  team  o' 
hosses,  and  I  can't  make  the  trade  I  should  'a' 
made.  If  I  jine  the  church  I  mean  to  live  up  to't, 
and  I  can't  make  them  sharp  trades  fellers  do. 
I  could  beat  'em  all  out  o'  their  boots,"  said 
Hiel,  with  rath.er  a  regretful  twinkle  in  his  eye, 
"  but  I  won't ;  I'll  do  the  right  thing,  ef  I  don't 
make  so  much  by 't.  Nabby  and  mc's  both 
agreed  'bout  that.  We  shall  jine  the  church 
together,  and  be  married  as  soon  as  I  get  back 
from  Vermont.  I  allers  meant  to  git  religion 
sometime — but  somehow,  lately,  I've  felt  that 
now  is  the  time." 

On  one  bright  autumnal  Sabbath  of  that  season 
the  broad  aisle  of  the  old  meeting-house  was 
filled  with  candidates  solemnly  confessing  their 
faith  and  purpose  to  lead  the  Christian  life. 
There,  standing  side  by  side,  were  all  ages,  from 
the  child  to  the  gray-haired  man.  There  stood 
Dolly  with  her  two  brothers,  her  heart  thrilling 
with  the  sense  of  the  holy  rite  in  which  she  was 
joining;  there  Nabby  and  Hiel  side  by  side; 
there  all  the  sons  of  Zeph  Higgins;  and  there, 
lastly,  the  gray,  worn  form  of  old  Zeph  himself. 
Although  enrolled  as  a  church  member  he  had 
asked  to  stand  up  and  take  anew  those  vows  of 


3i6  THE   JOY  OF  HARVEST. 

which  he  had  never  before  understood  the  mean 
ing  or  felt  the  spirit,  and  thus  reunite  himself 
with  the  church  from  which  he  had  separated, 

That  day  was  a  recompense  to  Dr.  Gushing 
for  many  anxieties  and  sorrows.  He  now  saw 
fully  that  though  the  old  regime  of  New  England 
had  forever  passed,  yet  there  was  still  in  the 
hands  of  her  ministry  that  mighty  power  which 
Paul  was  not  ashamed  to  carry  to  Rome  as  ade 
quate  to  regenerate  a  world.  He  saw  that  in 
temperance  and  profanity  and  immorality  could 
be  subdued  by  the  power  of  religious  motive 
working  in  the  hearts  of  individual  men,  taking 
away  the  desire  to  do  evil,  and  that  the  Gospel 
of  Christ  is  to-day,  as  it  was  of  old  and  ever  will 
be,  the  power  of  God  and  the  wisdom  of  God 
to  the  salvation  of  every  one  that  believeth. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

SIX  YEARS   LATER. 

|IX  years  step  softly,  with  invisible  foot 
steps,  over  the  plain  of  life,  bearing  us 
on  with  an  insensible  progress.  Six 
years  of  winter  snows  and  spring  thaws, 
of  early  blue-birds  and  pink  May-flower  buds 
under  leafy  banks,  of  anemone,  crowfoot  and 
violet  in  the  fields,  of  apple-blossoms  in  the  or 
chards,  and  new  green  leaves  in  the  forest;  six 
years  of  dark-green  summers  in  the  rustling 
woods,  of  fire-lilies  in  the  meadow-lots  and  scar 
let  lobelias  by  the  water-brooks,  of  roses  and 
lilies  and  tall  phloxes  in  the  gardens;  six  years 
of  autumnal  golden  rod  and  aster,  of  dropping  nuts 
and  rainbow-tinted  forests,  of  ripened  grain  and 
gathered  corn,  of  harvest  home  and  thanksgiv 
ing  proclamation  and  gathering  of  families  about 
the  home  table  to  consider  the  loving-kindness 
of  the  Lord : — by  such  easy  stages,  such  comings 
and'  goings,  is  our  mortal  pilgrimage  marked  off. 
When  the  golden  rod  and  aster  have  bloomed 
for  us  sixty  or  seventy  seasons,  then  we  are  near 

317 


318  SIX    YEARS  LATER. 

the  banks  of  the  final  river,  we  are  coming  to  the 
time  of  leaving  the  flowers  of  earth  for  the  flow 
ers  of  Paradise. 

The  six  years  in  Poganuc  had  brought  their 
changes,  not  in  external  nature,  for  that  remained 
quiet  and  beautiful  as  ever ;  the  same  wooded  hills, 
with  their  sylvan  shades  and  hidden  treasures 
of  fruits  and  flowers,  the  same  brown,  sparkling 
river,  where  pickerel  and  perch  darted  to  and 
fro,  and  trout  lurked  in  cool,  shadowy  hollows: 
but  the  old  graveyard  bore  an  added  stone  or 
two;  mounds  wet  with  bitter  tears  had  grown 
green  and  flowery,  and  peaceable  fruits  of  right 
eousness  had  sprung  up  from  harvests  sown 
there  in  weeping. 

As  to  the  Parsonage  and  its  inmates,  six  years 
had  added  a  little  sprinkle  of  silver  to  the  Doc 
tor's  head,  and  a  little  new  learning  of  the  loving- 
kindness  of  the  Lord  to  his  heart.  The  fruits  of 
the  revival  gathered  into  his  church  were  as  sat 
isfactory  as  ordinary  human  weakness  allows. 
The  Doctor  was  even  more  firmly  seated  in  the 
respect  and  affection  of  his  parish  than  in  old 
days,  when  the  ministry  was  encompassed  by  the 
dignities  and  protections  of  law.  Poganuc  was 
a  town  where  an  almshouse  was  almost  a  super 
fluous  institution,  and  almsgiving  made  difficult 
by  the  fact  that  there  were  no  poor  people ;  for 
since  the  shutting  of  Glazier's  bar-room,  and  the 


SIX    YEARS  LATER.  3,9 

reformation  of  a  few  noted  drunkards,  there  was 
scarce  anybody  not  in  the  way  of  earning  a 
decent  and  comfortable  living.  Such  were  our 
New  England  villages  in  the  days  when  its 
people  were  of  our  own  blood  and  race,  and  the 
pauper  population  of  Europe  had  not  as  yet  been 
[.landed  upon  our  shores. 

As  to  the  characters  of  our  little  story,  they, 
also,  had  moved  on  a  stage  in  the  journey  of  life. 

Hiel  Jones  had  become  a  thriving  man ;  had 
bought  a  share  in  the  stage-line  that  ran  through 
the  town,  and  owned  the  finest  team  of  horses  in 
the  region.  He  and  our  friend  Nabby  were  an 
edifying  matrimonial  firm,  comfortably  established 
at  housekeeping  in  a  trim,  well-kept  dwelling  not 
far  from  the  Parsonage,  with  lilac  bushes  over 
the  front  windows,  and  red  peonies  and  yellow 
lilies  in  the  door-yard. 

A  sturdy  youngster  of  three  years,  who  toddled 
about,  upsetting  matters  generally,  formed  a  large 
part  of  the  end  and  aim  of  Nabby's  existence. 
To  say  the  truth,  this  young,  bright-eyed,  curly- 
pated  slip  of  humanity  was  enough  to  furnish 
work  for  a  dozen  women,  for  he  did  mischief  with 
a  rapidity,  ingenuity  and  energy  that  was  per 
fectly  astonishing.  What  small  efforts  the  parents 
made  in  the  direction  of  family  government  were 
utterly  frustrated  by  the  fond  and  idolatrous  de 
votion  of  old  Zeph,  who  evidently  considered  it 


3 20  SIX    YEARS  LATER. 

the  special  privilege  of  a  grandfather  to  spoil 
the  rising  generation. 

Scarce  a  day  passed  that  Zeph  was  not  at  the 
house,  his  pockets  stuffed  with  apples,  cakes  or 
nuts  for  the  boy.  The  old  man  bowed  his  grey 
head  to  the  yoke  of  youth ;  he  meekly  did  the 
infant's  will ;  he  was  the  boy's  horse  and  cantered 
for  him,  he  was  a  cock  and  crowed  for  him,  he 
was  a  hen  and  cackled  for  him ;  he  sacrificed 
dignity  and  consistency  at  those  baby  feet  as  the 
wise  men  of  old  laid  down  their  gold,  frankin 
cense  and  myrrh. 

Zeph  had  ripened  like  a  winter  apple.  The 
hard,  snarly  astringency  of  his  character  had 
grown  sweet  and  mild.  His  was  a  nature  capa 
ble  of  a  great  and  lasting  change.  When  he 
surrendered  his  will  to  his  God  he  surrendered 
once  for  all,  and  so  the  peace  of  God  fell  upon 
him  and  kept  him.  He  was  a  consistent  and 
most  useful  member  of  the  church,  and  began  to 
be  known  in  the  neighborhood  by  the  semi- 
affectionate  title  of  u  Uncle  Zeph,"  a  sort  of 
brevet  rank  which  indicated  a  certain  general 
confidence  in  his  disposition  to  neighborly  good 
offices. 

The  darling  wish  of  his  wife's  heart  had  been 
accomplished  in  his  eldest  son  Abner.  He  had 
sent  him  through  college,  sparing  no  labor  and 
no  hardship  in  himself  to  give  the  youth  every 


S/X    YEARS  LATER.  321 

advantage.  And  Abner  had  proved  an  able 
scholar;  his  college  career  had  been  even  brill 
iant,  and  he  had  now  returned  to  his  native 
place  to  pursue  his  theological  studies  under  Dr. 
Gushing. 

It  will  be  well  remembered  that  in  the  former 
days  of  New  England  there  were  no  specific 
theological  institutions,  but  the  young  candidate 
for  the  ministry  took  his  studies  under  the  care 
of  some  pastor,  who  directed  his  preparatory 
course  and  initiated  him  into  his  labors,  and  this 
course  of  things  once  established  was  often  con 
tinued  from  choice  even  after  institutions  of 
learning  were  founded. 

The  Doctor  had  an  almost  paternal  pride  in 
this  offshoot  that  had  grown  up  in  his  parish ;  he 
taught  him  with  enthusiasm ;  he  took  him  in  his 
old  chaise  to  the  associations  and  ministerial 
meetings  about  the  State,  and  gave  him  every 
opportunity  to  exercise  his  gifts  in  speaking. 

It  was  a  proud  Sunday  for  old  Zeph  when  his 
boy  preached  his  first  sermon  in  the  Doctor's 
pulpit.  The  audience  in  the  Poganuc  meeting 
house,  as  we  have  indicated,  was  no  mean  one  in 
point  of  education,  ability  and  culture,  but  every 
one  saw  and  commended  the  dignity  and  self- 
possession  with  which  the  young  candidate  filled 
the  situation,  and  there  was  a  universal  approval 
of  his  discourse  from  even  the  most  critical  of 


322  SIX    YEARS  LATER. 

his  audience.  But  the  face  and  figure  of  old 
Zeph  as  he  leaned  forward  in  his  seat,  following 
with  breathless  eagerness  every  word ;  his  blue 
eyes  kindling,  the  hard  lines  of  his  face  relaxing 
into  an  expression  of  absorbed  and  breathless  in 
terest,  would  have  made  a  study  for  a  painter. 
Every  point  in  the  argument,  the  flash  of  every 
illustration,  the  response  to  every  emotion,  could 
have  been  read  in  his  face  as  in  an  open  book ; 
and  when  after  service  the  young  candidate 
received  the  commendations  of  Colonel  Daven 
port,  Judge  Belcher  and  Judge  Gridley,  Zeph's 
cup  of  happiness  was  full.  Abner  was  an  excep 
tion  to  the  saying  that  a  prophet  hath  no  honor 
in  his  own  country,  for  both  classes  in  society 
vied  with  each  other  to  do  him  honor.  The 
farming  population  liked  him  for  being  one  of 
themselves,  the  expression  of  what  they  felt 
themselves  capable  of  being  and  becoming  under 
similar  advantages ;  while  the  more  cultivated 
class  really  appreciated  the  talent  and  energy  of 
the  young  man,  and  were  the  better  pleased  with 
it  as  having  arisen  in  their  own  town. 

So  his  course  was  all  fair,  until,  as  Fate  would 
have  it,  he  asked  one  thing  too  much  of  her — 
and  thereof  came  a  heart-ache. 

Our  little  friend  Dolly  had  shot  up  into  a 
blooming  and  beautiful  maiden — warm-hearted, 
enthusiastic,  and  whole-souled  as  we  have  seen 


SIX    YEARS  L 


323 


her  in  her  childhood.  Slfe  was  in  everything 
the  sympathetic  response  that  parents,,  love  to 
find  in  a  child.  She  entered  wffii  '\)&t  whole 
soul  into  all  her  father's  feelings  aqd  plans,  and 
had  felt  and  expressed  such  an  hqiiest,  frankr-- 
and  hearty  friendliness  to  the  young?  man,  svfch 
an  interest  in  his  success,  that  the  poor  youth 
was  beguiled  into  asking  more  than  Dolly  could 
give. 

Modern  young  ladies,  who  count  and  cata 
logue  their  victims,  would  doubtless  be  amused 
to  have  seen  Dolly's  dismay  at  her  unexpected 
and  undesired  conquest.  The  recoil  was  so 
positive  and  decided  as  to  be  beyond  question, 
but  Dolly's  conscience  was  sorely  distressed. 
She  had  meant  nothing  but  the  ordinary  loving- 
kindness  of  a  good  and  generous  heart.  She 
had  wanted  to  make  him  happy,  and  had  ended 
in  making  him  apparently  quite  miserable;  and 
Dolly  was  sincerely  afflicted  about  it.  What 
had  she  done  ?  Had  she  done  wrong  ?  She 
never  thought— never  dreamed — of  such  a  thing. 

The  fact  was  that  Dolly  had  those  large, 
earnest,  persuasive  eyes  that  are  very  danger 
ous,  and  sometimes  seem  to  say  more  than  they 
mean;  and  she  had  quick,  sudden  smiles,  and 
twinkling  dimples,  and  artless,  honest  ways,  and 
so  much  general  good-will  and  kindliness,  that 
one  might  pardonably  be  deceived  by  her. 


324 


SIX    YEARS  LATER. 


It  is  said  that  there  are  lakes  whose  waters 
are  so  perfectly  transparent  that  they  deceive 
the  eye  as  to  their  depth.  Dolly  was  like  these 
crystal  waters;  with  all  her  impulsive  frankness 
there  was  a  deep  world  within — penetralia  that 
had  been  yet  uninvaded — and  there  she  kept 
her  ideals.  The  man  she  might  love  was  one  of 
the  immortals,  not  in  the  least  like  a  blushing 
young  theological  student  in  a  black  coat,  with 
a  hymn-book  under  his  arm.  Precisely  what 
he  was  she  had  never  been  near  enough  to  see ; 
but  she  knew  in  a  minute  what  he  was  not. 
Therefore  she  had  said  "  No  "  with  a  resolute  en 
ergy  that  admitted  of  no  hope,  and  yet  with  a 
distress  and  self-reproach  that  was  quite  genuine. 

This  was  Dolly's  first  real  trouble. 


CHAPTER   XXXIII. 

THE   DOCTOR   MAKES  A   DISCOVERY. 

|HY,  wife,"   said   the   Doctor,  pushing 
up  his  spectacles  on  his  forehead  and 
looking   up  from    his  completed   ser 
mon,    "our    little    Dolly   is    really   a 
grown-up  young  lady." 

"  Well,  of  course,  what  should  she  be  ?"  re 
joined  Mrs.  Gushing,  with  the  decisive  air  which 
becomes  the  feminine  partner  on  strictly  feminine 
ground ;  "  she's  taller  than  I  am,  and  she's  a 
handsome  girl,  too." 

"I  don't  think,"  said  the  Doctor,  assuming  a 
confidential  tone,  "that  there's  a  girl  in  our 
meeting-house  to  be  compared  with  her — there 
really  is  not." 

"  There  is  no  great  fault  to  be  found  with 
Dolly's  looks,"  said  Mrs.  Gushing  as  she  turned 
a  stocking  she  had  been  darning.  "  Dolly  always 
was  pretty." 

"Well,  what  do  you  think  Higgins  has  been 

saying  to  me  about  her?"  continued  the  Doctor. 

"Some  nonsense   I  suppose,"  said    Mrs.  Cush- 

325 


326 


THE   DOCTOR   MAKES  A    DISCOVERY. 


ing,  "  something  he  might  as  well  have  left  un 
said,  for  all  the  good  it  will  do." 

"Now,  my  dear,  Higgins  is  going  to  make 
one  of  the  leading  ministers  of  the  State.  He 
has  a  bright,  strong,  clear  mind  ;  he  is  a  thor 
ough  scholar  and  a  fine  speaker,  and  I  have  had 
a  letter  from  the  church  in  Northboro'  about 
settling  him  there." 

"  All  very  well.  I'm  sure  I'm  glad  of  it,  with 
all  my  heart,"  said  Mrs.  Gushing ;  "  but  if  he  has 
any  thoughts  of  our  Dolly  the  sooner  he  gets 
them  out  of  his  head  the  better  for  him.  Dolly 
has  felt  very  kindly  to  him,  as  she  does  to  every 
body;  she  has  been  interested  in  him  simply 
and  only  as  a  friend ;  but  any  suggestion  of  par 
ticular  interest  on  his  part  would  exceedingly 
annoy  her.  You  had  better  speak  very  decidedly 
to  him  to  this  effect.  You  can  say  that  I  under 
stand  my  daughter's  mind,  and  that  it  will  be 
very  painful  to  her  to  have  anything  more  said 
on  the  subject." 

"Well,  really,  I'm  sorry  for  Higgins,"  said 
the  Doctor,  "  he's  such  a  good-hearted  worthy 
fellow,  and  I  believe  he's  very  deep  in  love." 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Mrs.  Gushing  decidedly  ;  "  but 
our  Dolly  can't  marry  every  good-hearted  worthy 
fellow  that  comes  in  her  way,  if  he  is  in  love ; 
and  I'm  sure  I'm  in  no  hurry  to  give  her  away, — 
she  is  the  light  and  music  of  the  house." 


THE  DOCTOR  MAKES  A   DISCOVERY.         337 

"  So  she  is,"  said  the  Doctor ;  "  I  couldn't  do 
without  her ;  but  I  pity  poor  Higgins." 

"  Oh,  you  may  spare  your  pity ;  he  won't 
break  his  heart.  Never  fear.  Men  never  die  of 
that.  There'll  be  girls  enough  in  his  parish, 
and  he'll  be  married  six  months  after  he  gets 
a  place — ministers  always  are." 

The  Doctor  made  some  few  corrections  in  the 
end  of  his  sermon  without  contradicting  this  un 
ceremonious  statement  of  his  wile's. 

"  But,"  continued  Mrs.  Gushing,  "  the  thing  is 
a  trial  to  Dolly;  I  think  it  would  be  quite  as 
well  if  she  should  n't  see  any  more  of  him  for 
the  present,  and  I  have  just  got  a  letter  from 
Deborah  urging  me  to  let  her  go  to  Boston  for 
a  visit.  Mother  says  she  is  getting  old,  now, 
and  that  she  shall  never  see  Dolly  unless  the 
child  comes  to  her.  Here's  the  letter." 

The  Doctor  took  it,  and  we,  looking  over  his 
shoulder,  see  the  large,  sharp,  decided  style  of 
writing  characteristic  of  Miss  Debby  Kittery : 

"  DEAR  SISTER  : 

"Mother  wants  you  to  let  us  have  Dolly  to  make  a 
good,  long  visit.  Mother  is  getting  old  now,  and  says 
she  hasn't  seen  Dolly  since  she  has  grown  up,  and 
thinks  we  old  folks  will  be  the  better  for  a  little  young 
life  about  us.  You  remember  Cousin  Jane  Davies, 
that  married  John  Dunbar  and  went  over  to  England  ? 
Well,  brother  Israel  Kittery  has  taken  a  fancy  to  her 
youngest  son  during  his  late  visit  to  England,  and  is 


328          THE  DOCTOR  MAKES  A   DISCOVERY. 

going  to  bring  him  to  Boston  and  turn  over  his  busi 
ness  to  him  and  make  him  his  heir.  We  are  expect 
ing  them  now  by  every  ship,  and  have  invited  them 
to  spend  the  Christmas  Holidays  with  us.  I  under 
stand  this  young  Alfred  Dunbar  is  a  bright,  quick 
witted  young  slip,  just  graduated  from  Oxford,  and 
one  that  finds  favor  in  all  eyes.  He  will  help  make 
it  lively  for  Dolly,  and  if  anything  should  come  of  it 
why  it  will  be  all  the  better.  So  if  you  will  have  Dolly 
ready  to  leave  I  will  be  up  to  visit  you  in  December 
and  bring  her  home  with  me.  Mother  sends  a  great 
deal  of  love, — her  rheumatism  has  gone  to  her  right 
arm  now,  which  is  about  all  the  variety  she  is  treated 
to ;  but  she  is  always  serene,  as  usual,  and  sends  no 
end  of  loving  messages. 

"  Your  affectionate  sister, 

"DEBBY. 

"  P.  S. — Don't  worry  about  Dolly's  dress.  My  pink 
brocade  will  cut  over  for  her,  and  it  is  nearly  as  good 
as  new.  I'll  bring  it  when  I  come." 

On  reading  this  letter  the  Doctor  fell  into  a 
deep  muse. 

"Well,  what  do  you  think?"  asked  his  wife. 

"What?  Who?  I?"  said  the  Doctor,  with 
difficulty  collecting  himself  from  his  reverie. 

"  Yes,  you,"  answered  his  wife  incisively,  with 
just  the  kind  of  a  tone  to  wake  one  out  of  a  nap. 

The  fact  was  that  the  good  Doctor  had  a  little 
habit  of  departing  unceremoniously  into  some 
celestial  region  of  thought  in  the  midst  of  con 
versation,  and  the  notion  of  Dolly's  going  to 
Boston  had  aroused  quite  a  train  of  ideas  con- 


THE  DOCTOR  MAKES  A   DISCOVERY.          $2() 

nected  with  certain  doctrinal  discussions  now 
going  on  there  in  relation  to  the  Socinian  con 
troversy,  so  that  his  wife's  voice  came  to  him 
from  afar  off,  as  one  hears  in  a  dream. 

To  Mrs.  Gushing,  whose  specific  work  lay  here, 
and  now,  in  the  matters  of  this  present  world,  this 
little  peculiarity  of  her  husband  ,was  at  times  a 
trifle  annoying;  so  she  added,  "I  do  wish  you 
would  attend  to  what  we  were  talking  about. 
Don't  you  think  it  would  be  just  the  best  thing  in 
the  world  for  Dolly  to  make  this  visit  to  Boston?" 

"  Oh,  certainly  I  do — by  all  means,"  he  said 
eagerly,  with  the  air  of  a  man  just  waked  up 
who  wants  to  show  he  hasn't  been  asleep.  "  Yes, 
Dolly  had  better  go." 

The  Doctor  mused  for  another  moment,  and 
then  added,  in  a  sort  of  soliloquy:  "Boston  is 
a  city  of  sacred  associations;  it  is  consecrated 
ground ;  the  graves  of  our  fathers,  of  the  saints 
and  the  martyrs  are  there.  I  shall  like  little 
Dolly  to  visit  them." 

This  was  not  precisely  the  point  of  view  in 
which  the  visit  was  contemplated  in  the  mind  of 
his  wife ;  but  the  enthusiasm  was  a  sincere  one. 
Boston,  to  all  New  England,  was  the  Jerusalem— 
the  city  of  sacred  and  religious  memories;  they 
took  pleasure  in  her  stones,  and  favored  the  dust 
thereof. 


CHAPTER   XXXIV. 

KIEL  AND   NABBY. 

|NLY  think,  Kiel,  Dolly's  going  to 
Boston,"  said  Nabby,  when  they  had 
seated  themselves  cosily  with  the  in 
fant  Zeph  between  them  at  the 
supper-table. 

"  Ye  don't  say  so,  now !"  said  Kiel,  with  the 
proper  expression  of  surprise. 

"  Yes,  Miss  Kittery,  her  Boston  aunt,  's  comin' 
next  week,  and  I'm  goin'  in  to  do  up  her  muslins 
for  her.  Yes,  Dolly  's  goin'  to  Boston." 

"  Good  !"  said  Hiel.  "  I  hope  she'll  get  a  hus 
band  there." 

"  That's  jest  all  you  men  think  of,"  answered 
Nabby.  "  Dolly  ain't  one  o'  that  kind ;  she  ain't 
lookin'  out  for  fellers — though  there's  plenty 
would  be  glad  to  have  her.  She  ain't  one  o' 
that  sort." 

"  Wai,"  said  Hiel,  "  she's  too  good-lookin'  to 
be  let  alone;  she'll  hev  to  hev  somebody." 

"  Oh,  there's  enough  after  her,"  said  Nabby. 
"  There  was  that  Virginny  fellow  in  Judge 
Belcher's  office,  waitin'  on  her  home  from  meet- 

330 


II I  EL  AND  NABBY.  ^31 

in'  and  wanting  to  be  her  beau ;  she  wouldn't 
have  nothin'  to  say  to  him.  Then  there  was  that 
academy  teacher  used  to  walk  home  with  her, 
and  carry  her  books  and  go  with  her  to  singin' 
school;  but  Dolly  didn't  want  him.  And  there's 
Abner — he  jest  worships  the  ground  she  treads 
on  ;  and  she's  jest  good  friends  with  him.  She's 
good  friends  with  'em  all  round,  but  come  to 
case  in  hand  she  don't  want  any  on  'em." 

"  Wai,  there  ain't  nothin'  but  the  doctrine  o' 
'lection  for  such  gals,"  said  Hiel.  "'  When  the 
one  they's  decreed  to  marry  comes  along  then 
their  time  comes,  jest  as  yours  and  mine  did, 
Nabby." 

The  conversation  was  here  interrupted  by  the 
infant  Zeph,  who  had  improved  the  absorbed 
state  of  his  parents'  minds  to  carry  out  a  plan  he 
had  been  some  time  meditating,  of  upsetting  the 
molasses  pitcher.  This  was  done  with  such 
celerity  that  before  they  could  make  a  move  both 
his  fat  hands  were  triumphantly  spatted  into  the 
brown  river,  and  he  gave  a  crow  of  victory. 

"  There  !  clean  table-cloth  this  very  night !  Did 
I  ever  see  such  a  young  un !"  cried  Nabby,  as 
she  caught  him  away  from  the  table.  "  Father 
thinks  he's  perfection.  I  should  like  to  have  him 
have  the  care  of  him  once,"  she  added,  bustling 
and  brightening  and  laughing  as  she  scolded ; 
while  Hiel,  making  perfectly  sincere  but  ill- 


332  HIEL  AND   NABBY. 

directed  efforts  to  scrape  up  the  molasses  with 
a  spoon,  succeeded  only  in  distributing  it  pretty 
equally  over  the  table-cloth. 

"  Well,  now,  if  there  ain't  a  pair  of  you!"  said 
Nabby,  when  she  returned  to  the  table.  "  If  that 
ain't  jest  like  a  man !" 

"  Wai,  what  would  ye  hev  me — like  a  girl,  or  a 
dog,  or  what?"  asked  Hiel,  as  he  stood,  with  his 
hands  in  his  pockets,  surveying  the  scene.  "  I 
did  my  best ;  but  I  ain't  used  to  managing  mo 
lasses  and  babies  together;  that's  a  fact." 

"  It's  lucky  Mother  went  out  to  tea,"  said 
Nabby,  as  she  whisked  off  the  tablecloth,  wiped 
the  table,  re-clothed  it  with  a  clean  one,  and 
laid  the  supper  dishes  back  in  a  twinkling.  "  Now, 
Hiel,  we'll  try  again ;  and  be  sure  and  put  things 
where  he  can't  get  'em ;  he  does  beat  all  for  mis 
chief!" 

And  the  infant  phenomenon,  who  had  had  his 
face  washed  and  his  apron  changed  in  the  inte 
rim,  looked  up  confidingly  in  the  face  of  each 
parent  and  crowed  out  a  confident  laugh. 

"  Don't  let's  tell  Mother,"  said  Nabby ;  "  she's 
always  sayin'  we  don't  govern  him;  and  I'm  sure 
she  spoils  him  more  than  we  do ;  but  if  she'd 
been  here  she  wouldn't  get  over  it  for  a  week." 

In  fact,  the  presence  of  Mother  Jones  in  the 
family  was  the  only  drawback  on  Nabby 's  domes 
tic  felicity,  that  good  lady's  virtues,  as  we  have 


HIEL  AND  NAB  BY.  333 

seen,  being  much  on  the  plaintive  and  elegiac 
order.  There  is  indeed  a  class  of  elderly  relatives 
who,  their  work  in  life  being  now  over,  have 
nothing  to  do  but  sit  and  pass  criticisms  on  the 
manner  in  which  younger  pilgrims  are  bearing 
the  heat  and  burden  of  the  day. 

Although  Nabby  was  confessedly  one  of  the 
most  capable  and  energetic  of  housekeepers, 
though  everything  in  her  domestic  domains 
fairly  shone  and  glittered  with  neatness,  though 
her  cake  always  rose  even,  though  her  bread 
was  the  whitest,  her  biscuits  the  lightest,  and 
her  doughnuts  absolute  perfection,  yet  Mother 
Jones  generally  sat  mildly  swaying  in  her 
rocking-chair  and  declaring  herself  consumed 
by  care — and  averring  that  she  had  "everything 
on  her  mind."  "  I  don't  do  much,  but  I  feel 
the  care  of  everything,"  the  old  lady  would  re 
mark  in  a  quavering  voice.  "  Young  folks  is  so 
thoughtless;  they  don't  feel  care  as  I  do." 

At  first  Nabby  was  a  little  provoked  at  this 
state  of  things  ;  but  Hiel  only  laughed  it  off. 

"  Oh,  let  her  talk.  Mother  likes  to  feel  care ; 
she  wants  something  to  worry  about;  she'd  be 
as  forlorn  as  a  hen  without  a  nest-egg  if  she 
hadn't  that.  Don't  you  trouble  your  head, 
Nabby,  so  long  as  I  don't." 

For  all  that,  Nabby  congratulated  herself  that 
Mother  Jones  was  not  at  the  tea-table,  for  the 


334  HIEL  AND  NABBY. 

nurture  and  admonition  of  young  Zeph  was 
one  of  her  most  fruitful  and  weighty  sources 
of  care.  She  was  always  declaring  that  "  chil 
dren  was  sech  an  awful  responsibility,  that  she 
wondered  that  folks  dared  to  git  married  !"  She 
laid  down  precepts,  strict  even  to  ferocity,  as 
to  the  early  necessity  of  prompt,  energetic 
government,  and  of  breaking  children's  wills ; 
and  then  gave  master  Zeph  everything  he  cried 
for,  and  indulged  all  his  whims  with  the  most 
abject  and  prostrate  submission. 

"  I  know  I  hadn't  orter,"  she  would  say,  when 
confronted  with  this  patent  inconsistency ;  "  but 
then  I  ain't  his  mother.  I  ain't  got  the  respon 
sibility  ;  and  the  fact  is  he  will  have  things  and 
I  hev  to  let  him.  His  parents  orter  break  his 
will,  but  they  don't;  it's  a  great  care  to  me;" 
and  Mother  Jones  would  end  by  giving  him  the 
sugar-bowl  to  play  with,  and  except  for  the  im 
mutable  laws  of  nature  she  would  doubtless 
have  given  him  the  moon  or  any  part  of  the 
solar  system  that  he  had  cried  for. 

Nevertheless,  let  it  not  be  surmised  that  Mother 
Jones,  notwithstanding  the  minor  key  in  which 
she  habitually  indulged,  was  in  the  least  unhappy. 
There  are  natures  to  whom  the  "  unleavened  bread 
and  bitter  herbs"  of  life  are  an  agreeable  and 
strengthening  diet,  and  Mother  Jones  took  real 
pleasure  in  everything  that  went  to  show  that 


HIEL  AND  NABBY.  335 

this  earth  was  a  vale  of  tears.  A  funeral  was 
a  most  enlivening  topic  for  her,  and  she  never 
allowed  an  opportunity  to  pass  within  riding  dis 
tance  without  giving  it  her  presence,  and  dwell 
ing  on  all  the  details  of  the  state  of  the  "  corpse" 
and  the  minutias  of  the  laying-out  for  weeks 
after,  so  that  her  presence  at  table  between  her 
blooming  son  and  daughter  answered  all  the 
moral  purposes  of  the  skeleton  which  the  ancient 
Egyptians  kept  at  their  feasts.  Mother  Jones 
also,  in  a  literal  sense,  "enjoyed  poor  health"  and 
petted  her  coughs  and  her  rheumatisms,  and  was 
particularly  discomposed  with  any  attempt  to 
show  her  that  she  was  getting  better.  Yet  when 
strictly  questioned  the  good  lady  always  ad 
mitted,  though  with  a  mournful  shake  of  the 
head,  that  she  had  everything  to  be  thankful 
for — that  Hiel  was  a  good  son,  and  Nabby  was 
a  good  daughter,  and  '  since  Hiel  had  jined  the 
church  and  hed  prayers  in  his  family,  she  hoped 
he'd  hold  on  to  the  end — though  it  really  worried 
her  to  see  how  light  and  triflin'  he  was.' 

In  fact  Hiel,  though  maintaining  on  the  whole 
a  fairly  consistent  walk  and  profession,  was  un 
doubtedly  a  very  gleesome  church  member,  and 
about  as  near  Mother  Jones's  idea  of  a  saint  as 
a  bobolink  on  a  clover-top.  There  was  a  worldly 
twinkle  in  his  eye,  and  the  lines  of  his  cheery 
face  grew  rather  broad  than  long,  and  his  moth- 


336  HIEL   AND  NABBY. 

er's  most  lugubrious  suggestions  would  often  set 
him  off  in  a  story  that  would  upset  even  the  old 
lady's  gravity  and  bring  upon  her  pangs  of  re 
pentance.  For  the  spiritual  danger  and  besettiag 
sin  that  Mother  Jones  more  especially  guarded 
against  was  an  "undue  levity;"  but  when  she 
remembered  that  Dr.  Gushing  himself  and  all 
the  neighboring  clergymen,  on  an  occasion  of  a 
"  ministers'  meeting"  when  she  had  been  helping 
in  the  family,  had  vied  with  each  other  in  telling 
good  stories,  and  shaken  their  sides  with  roars 
of  heartiest  laughter,  she  was  somewhat  consoled 
about  Hiel.  She  confessed  it  was  a  mystery  to 
her,  however,  '  how  folks  could  hev  the  heart 
to  be  a-laughin'  and  tellin'  stories  in  sich  a  dying 
world.' 


CHAPTER    XXXV. 

MISS  DEBBY  ARRIVES. 

JO  Dr.  Cushing's,  Ma'am  ?" 

This  question  met  the  ear  of  Miss 
Debby  Kittery  just  after  she  had  de 
posited  her  umbrella,  with  a  smart, 
decisive  thump,  by  her  side,  and  settled  herself 
and  her  bandbox  on  the  back  seat  of  the  creak 
ing,  tetering  old  stage  on  the  way  to  Poganuc. 

Miss  Debby  opened  her  eyes,  surveyed  the 
questioner  with  a  well-bred  stare,  and  answered, 
with  a  definite  air,  "  Yes,  sir." 

"  Oh,  yis;  thought  so,"  said  Hiel  Jones.  "  Miss 
Kittery,  I  s'pose ;  the  Doctor's  folks  is  expecting 
ye.  Folks  all  well  in  Boston,  I  s'pose?" 

Miss  Debby  in  her  heart  thought  Hiel  Jones 
very  presuming  and  familiar,  and  endeavored  to 
convey  by  her  behavior  and  manner  that  such 
was  her  opinion;  but  the  effort  was  quite  a  vain 
one,  for  the  remotest  conception  of  any  such 
possibility  in  his  case  was  so  far  from  Hiel's  mind 
that  there  was  not  there  even  the  material  to 
make  it  of.  The  look  of  dignified  astonishment 
with  which  the  good  lady  responded  to  his  ques- 

337 


338  MISS  DEBBY  ARRIVES. 

tion  as  to  the  "  folks  in  Boston  "  was  wholly  lost 
on  him. 

The  first  sentence  in  the  Declaration  of  Inde 
pendence,  that  all  men  are  "created  equal,"  had 
so  far  become  incarnate  in  Hiel  that  he  never  yet 
had  seen  the  human  being  whom  he  did  not  feel 
competent  to  address  on  equal  terms,  and,  when 
exalted  to  his  high  seat  on  the  stage-box,  could 
not  look  down  upon  with  a  species  of  patronage. 
Even  the  haute  noblesse  of  Poganuc  allowed  Kiel's 
familiarities  and  laughed  at  his  jokes  ;  he  was  one 
of  their  institutions ;  and  what  was  tolerance  and 
acceptance  on  the  part  of  the  aristocracy  became 
adulation  on  the  part  of  those  nearer  his  own 
rank  of  life.  And  so  when  Miss  Debby  Kittery 
made  him  short  answers  and  turned  away  lier 
head,  Hiel  merely  commented  to  himself,  "Don't 
seem  sociable.  Poor  old  lady  !  Tired,  I  s'pose  ; 
roads  is  pretty  rough,"  and,  gathering  up  his 
reins,  dashed  off  cheerfully. 

At  the  first  stage  where  he  stopped  to  change 
horses  he  deemed  it  his  duty  to  cheer  the  loneli 
ness  of  the  old  lady  by  a  little  more  conversation, 
and  so,  after  offering  to  bring  her  a  tumbler  of 
water,  he  resumed : 

"  Ye  hain't  ben  to  Poganuc  very  often  ; — hain't 
seen  Dolly  since  she's  grow'd  up?" 

"Are  you  speaking  of  Miss  Gushing,  sir?" 
asked  Miss  Debby,  in  tones  of  pointed  rebuke. 


MISS  DEBBY  ARRIVES.  339 

"  Yis — wal,  we  allers  call  her  *  Dolly'  t'  our 
house,"  said  Hiel.  "  We've  know'd  her  sence 
she  was  that  high.  My  wife  used  to  live  to  the 
Doctor's— she  thinks  all  the  world  of  Dolly." 

Miss  Debby  thought  of  the  verse  in  the  Church 
Catechism  in  which  the  catechumen  defines  it  as 
his  duty  to  '  order  himself  lowly  and  reverently 
to  all  his  betters.'  Evidently  Hiel  had  never 
heard  of  this  precept.  Perhaps  if  he  had,  the 
inquiry  as  to  who  are  betters,  as  presented  to  a 
shrewd  and  thoughtful  mind,  might  lead  to  em 
barrassing  results. 

So,  as  he  seemed  an  utterly  hopeless  case,  and 
as  after  all  he  appeared  so  bright,  and  anxious  to 
oblige,  Miss  Debby  surrendered  at  discretion, 
and  during  the  last  half  of  the  way  found  herself 
laughing  heartily  at  some  of  Hiel's  stories  and 
feeling  some  interest  in  the  general  summary  of 
Poganuc  news  which  he  threw  in  gratis. 

"  Yis,  the  Doctor's  folks  is  all  well.  Doctor's 
had  lots  o'  things  sent  in  this  year,  Thanks 
giving  time — turkeys  and  chickens  and  eggs 
and  lard — every  kind  o'  thing  you  can  think  of. 
Everybody  sent — Town  Hill  folks,  and  folks  out 
seven  miles  round.  Everybody  likes  the  Doctor ; 
they'd  orter,  too !  There  ain't  sech  a  minister 
nowhere.  The  way  he  explains  the  doctrines 
and  sets  'em  home — I  tell  ye,  there  ain't  no  mis 
take  about  him;  he's  a  hull  team,  now,  and  our 


340  MISS  DEBB  Y  ARRIVES. 

folks  knows  it.  Orter  'a'  ben  here  a  week  ago, 
when  the  Doctor  had  his  wood-spell.  Tell  ye,  if 
the  sleds  didn't  come  in !  Why,  his  back-yard's  a 
perfect  mountain  o'  wood — best  sort  too,  good 
oak  and  hickory,  makes  good  solid  coals — enough 
to  keep  him  a  year  round.  Wai,  folks  ortcr 
do  it.  He's  faithful  to  them,  they'd  orter  do 
wal  by  him." 

"  Isn't  there  an  Episcopal  church  in  your 
town?"  asked  Miss  Debby." 

"  Oh,  yis,  there  is  a  little  church.  Squire 
Lewis  he  started  it  'bout  six  years  ago,  and 
there  was  consid'able  many  signed  off  to  it. 
But  our  Poganuc  folks  somehow  ain't  made  for 
'Piscopals.  A  'Piscopal  church  in  our  town  is 
jest  like  a  hill  o'  potatoes  planted  under  a  big 
apple-tree ;  the  tree  got  a-growin'  afore  they  did, 
and  don't  give  'em  no  chance.  There  was  my 
wife's  father,  he  signed  off,  'cause  of  a  quarrel 
he  hed  with  his  own  church ;  but  he's  come  back 
agin,  and  so  have  all  his  boys,  and  Nabby.  and 
jined  the  Doctor's  church.  Fact  is,  our  folks 
sort  o'  hanker  arter  the  old  meetin'-house." 

"  Who  is  the  rector  of  the  Episcopal  church?" 

''Oh,  that's  Sim  Coan;  nice,  lively  young  feller, 
Sim  is ;  but  can't  hold  a  candle  to  the  Doctor. 
Sim  he  ain't  'fraid  of  nobody — preaches  up  the 
'Piscopal  doctrine  sharp,  and  stands  up  for  his 
side;  and  he's  all  the  feasts  and  fasts  and  an- 


MISS  DEB  BY  ARRIVES*  -«T 

O'l 

thems  and  things  at  his  tongue's  end ;  and  his 
folks  likes  him  fust  rate.  But  the  church  don't 
grow  much ;  jest  holds  its  own,  that's  all." 

These  varied  items  of  intelligence,  temporal 
and  spiritual,  were  poured  into  Miss  Debby's 
ear  at  sundry  periods  when  horses  were  to  be 
changed,  or  in  the  interval  of  waiting  for  dinner 
at  the  sleepy  old  country  tavern;  and  by  the 
time  she  reached  Poganuc  she  had  conceived 
quite  a  friendly  feeling  towards  Hiel  and  un 
bent  her  frigid  demeanor  to  that  degree  that 
Hiel  told  Nabby  "  the  old  lady  reely  got  quite 
sociable  and  warmed  up  afore  she  got  there." 

Dolly  was  somewhat  puzzled  and  almost 
alarmed  on  her  first  introduction  to  her  aunt, 
who  took  possession  of  her  in  a  summary  man 
ner,  turning  her  round  and  surveying  her,  and 
giving  her  opinion  of  her  with  a  distinct  and 
decisive  air,  as  if  the  damsel  had  been  an 
article  of  purchase  sent  home  to  be  looked  over. 

"  So  this  is  my  niece  Dolly,  is  it?"  she  said. 
"Well,  come  kiss  your  old  aunt$;  upon  my 
word,  you  are  taller  than  your  mother."  Then 
holding  her  at  arm's  length  and  surveying  her, 
with  her  head  on  one  side,  she  added,  "  There's 
a  good  deal  of  Pierrepont  blood  in  her,  sister; 
that  is  the  Pierrepont  nose — I  should  know  it 
anywhere.  Her  way  of  carrying  herself  is 
Pierrepont.  Blushing!"  she  added,  as  Dolly 


342  MISS  DEBBY  ARRIVES. 

grew  crimson  under  this  survey  ;  "  that's  a  family 
trick.  I  remember  when  I  went  to  dancing 
school  the  first  time,  my  face  was  crimson  as 
my  sash.  She'll  get  the  better  of  that  as  she 
gets  older,  as  I  have.  Sit  down  by  your  aunty, 
child.  I  think  I  shall  like  you.  That's  right, 
sit  up  straight  and  hold  your  shoulders  back — 
the  girls  of  this  generation  are  getting  round- 
shouldered." 

Though  Dolly  was  somewhat  confused  and 
confounded  by  this  abrupt  mode  of  procedure, 
yet  there  was  after  all  something  quaint  and 
original  about  her  aunt's  manner  that  amused 
her,  and  an  honest  sincerity  in  her  face  that  won 
her  regard.  Miss  Debby  was  one  of  those  human 
beings  who  carry  with  them  the  apology  for  their 
own  existence.  It  took  but  a  glance  to  see  that 
she  was  one  of  those  forces  of  nature  which 
move  always  in  straight  lines  and  which  must 
be  turned  out  for  if  one  wishes  to  avoid  a  col 
lision.  All  Miss  Debby's  opinions  had  been  made 
up,  catalogued,  and  arranged,  at  a  very  early 
period  of  life,  and  she  had  no  thought  of  change. 
She  moved  in  a  region  of  certainties,  and  always 
took  her  own  opinions  for  granted  with  a  calm 
supremacy  altogether  above  reason.  Yet  there 
was  all  the  while  about  her  a  twinkle  of  hu 
morous  consciousness,  a  vein  of  original  drollery, 
which  gave  piquancy  to  the  brusqueness  of 


MISS  DEBBY  ARRIVES.  343 

her   manner  and   prevented  people  from   taking 
offence. 

So  this  first  evening  Dolly  stared,  laughed, 
blushed,  wondered,  had  half  a  mind  to  be  pro 
voked,  but  ended  in  a  hearty  liking  of  her  new 
relative  and  most  agreeable  anticipations  of  her 
Boston  visit 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

PREPARATIONS    FOR    SEEING    LIFE. 

]HE  getting  ready  for  Dolly's  journey 
began  to  be  the  engrossing  topic  of  the 
little  household. 

Miss  Simpkins,  the  Poganuc  dress 
maker,  had  a  permanent  corner  in  the  sitting- 
room,  and  discoursed  ex  cathedra  on  "  piping-cord" 
and  "ruffling  cut  on  the  bias,"  and  Dolly  and  Mrs. 
Gushing  and  Miss  Deborah  obediently  ran  up 
breadths,  hemmed,  stitched  and  gathered  at  her 
word  of  command. 

The  general  course  of  society  in  those  days  as 
to  dress  and  outward  adornment  did  not  run 
with  the  unchecked  and  impetuous  current  that 
it  now  does.  The  matter  of  dress  has  become  in 
our  day  a  yoke  and  a  burden,  and  many  a  good 
house-mother  is  having  the  springs  of  her  exist 
ence  sapped  by  responsibilities  connected  with 
pinking  and  frilling  and  quilling,  and  an  army  ot 
devouring  cares  as  to  hemming,  stitching  and 
embroidery,  for  which  even  the  "  consolations  of 
religion"  provide  no  panacea. 

In   the    simple    Puritan   days,    while  they  had 

344 


PREPARATIONS  FOR   SEEING  LIFE.  345 

before  their  eyes  the  query  of  Sacred  Writ, 
"Can  a  maid  forget  her  ornaments?" — they  felt 
that  there  was  no  call  to  assist  the  maid  in  her 
meditations  on  this  subject.  Little  girls  were 
assiduously  taught  that  to  be  neat  and  clean  was 
the  main  beauty.  Good  mothers  who  had  pretty 
daughters  were  very  reticent  of  and  remarks  that 
might  lead  in  the  direction  of  personal  vanity  ; 
any  extra  amount  of  time  spent  at  the  toilet,  any 
apparent  anxiety  about  individual  adornment, 
met  a  persistent  discouragement. 

Never  in  all  her  lite  before  had  Dolly  heard 
so  much  discourse  on  subjects  connected  with 
personal  appearance,  and,  to  say  the  truth,  she 
did  not  at  all  enter  into  it  with  the  abandon  and 
zeal  of  a  girl  of  our  modern  days,  and  lound  the 
fitting  and  trying  on  and  altering  rather  a  tribu 
lation  to  be  conscientiously  endured.  She  gath 
ered,  hemmed,  stitched  and  sewed,  however,  and 
submitted  herself  to  the  trying-on  process  with 
resignation. 

"  The  child  don't  seem  to  think  much  of  dress," 
said  Miss  Debby,  \vhen  alone  with  her  sister. 
"  What  is  she  thinking  of,  with  those  great  eyes 
of  hers?" 

"  Oh,  of  things  she  is  planning,"  said  her 
mother;  "of  books  she  is  reading,  of  things  her 
father  reads  to  her,  of  ways  she  can  help  me— 
in  short,  of  anything  but  herself." 


346  PREPARATIONS  FOR   SEEING  LIFE. 

"  She  is  very  pretty,"  said  Miss  Debby,  "  and 
is  sure  to  be  very  attractive." 

"  Yes,"  answered  her  mother,  "but  Dolly 
hasn't  the  smallest  notion  of  anything  like  co 
quetry.  Now,  she  has  been  a  good  deal  admired 
here,  and  there  have  been  one  or  two  that  would 
evidently  have  been  glad  to  go  farther;  but 
Dolly  cuts  everything  of  that  kind  short  at  once. 
She  is  very  pleasant,  very  kind,  very  friendly, 
up  to  a  certain  point,  but  the  moment  she  is  made 
love  to — everything  is  changed." 

"Well,"  said  Miss  Deborah,  "I  am  glad  I 
came  after  her.  There's  everything,  with  a  girl 
like  Dolly,  in  putting  her  into  proper  society. 
When  a  girl  comes  to  her  years  one  should 
put  her  in  the  way  of  a  suitable  connection  at 
once." 

"  As  to  that,"  said  Mrs.  Gushing,  "  I  always 
felt  that  things  of  that  kind  must  be  left  to 
Providence." 

"  I  believe,  however,  your  husband  preaches 
that  we  must  'use  the  means,'  doesn't  he?  One 
must  put  children  in  proper  society,  to  give 
Providence  a  chance." 

"  Well,  Debby,  you  have  your  schemes,  but  I 
forwarn  you  Dolly  is  one  who  goes  her  own 
path.  She  seems  very  sweet,  very  gentle,  very 
yielding,  but  she  has  a  little  quiet  way  of  her 
own  of  looking  at  things  and  deciding  for  her- 


PREPARA  TIONS  FOR   SEEING  LIFE. 


347 


self;  she  always  knows  her  own  mind  very 
definitely,  too." 

"  Good !"  said  Miss  Debby,  taking  a  long  and 
considerate  pinch  of  snuff.  "  We  shall  see." 

Miss  Debby  had  unbounded  confidence  in  her 
own  powers  of  management.  She  looked  upon 
Dolly  as  a  very  creditably  educated  young  per 
son  so  far,  but  did  not  in  the  least  doubt  her 
own  ability  to  add  a  few  finishing  touches  here 
and  there,  which  should  turn  her  out  a  per 
fected  specimen. 

On  Sunday  morning  Miss  Debby  arose  with 
the  spirit  of  a  confessor.  For  her  brother-in-law 
the  good  lady  had  the  sincerest  respect  and 
friendship,  but  on  this  particular  day  she  felt 
bound  to  give  her  patronage  and  support  to 
the  little  church  where,  in  her  view,  the  truly 
appointed  minister  dispensed  the  teaching  of  the 
true  church. 

The  Doctor  lifted  his  glasses  and  soberly  smiled 
as  he  saw  her  compact  energetic  figure  walking 
across  the  green  to  the  little  church.  Dolly's 
cheeks  flamed  up ;  she  was  indignant ;  to  her  it 
looked  like  a  slight  upon  her  father,  and  Dolly, 
as  we  have  seen,  had  a  very  active  spirit  of 
partisanship. 

"Well,  I  must  say  I  wonder  at  her  doing 
so,"  she  commented.  "  Does  she  not  think  we 
are  Christians?" 


348  PREPARATIONS  FOR   SEEING  LIFE. 

"  She  has  a  right  to  her  own  faith,  my  child/' 
said  the  Doctor. 

"  Yes,  but  what  would  she  think  of  me,  when 
I  am  in  Boston,  if  I  should  go  off  to  some  other 
church  than  hers  ?" 

"  My  dear,  I  hope  you  will  give  her  no  such 
occasion,"  said  Mrs.  Gushing.  "Your  conscience 
requires  no  such  course  of  you ;  hers  does." 

"  Well,  it  seems  to  me  that  Aunty  has  a  very 
narrow  and  bigoted  way  of  looking  at  things," 
said  Dolly. 

"  Your  aunt  is  an  old  lady — very  decided  in 
all  her  opinions — not  in  the  least  likely  to  be 
changed  by  anything  you  or  I  or  anybody  can 
say  to  her.  It  is  best  to  take  her  as  she  is." 

"  Besides,"  said  the  Doctor,  "  she  has  as  much 
right  to  think  I  am  in  the  wrong  as  I  have  to 
think  she  is.  Let  every  one  be  fully  persuaded 
in  his  own  mind/' 


"  I  *was  very  glad,  my  dear,  you  answered 
Dolly  as  you  did,"  said  Mrs.  Gushing  to  her 
husband  that  night  when  they  were  alone.  "  She 
has  such  an  intense  feeling  about  all  that  re 
lates  to  you,  and  the  Episcopal  party  have  been 
so  often  opposed  to  you,  that  she  will  need 
some  care  and  caution  now  she  is  going  where 
everything  is  to  be  changed.  She  will  have  to 


PREPARA  TIONS  FOR   SEEING  LIFE. 

see    that    there   can   be   truth   and   goodness    in 
both  forms  of  worship." 

uOh,  certainly;  I  will  indoctrinate  Dolly," 
said  the  Doctor.  "  Yes,  I  will  set  the  whole 
thing  before  her.  She  has  a  good  clear  mind. 
I  can  make  her  understand." 


CHAPTER    XXXVII. 

LAST  WORDS. 

last  all  the  preparations  were  made, 
and  Dolly's  modest  wardrobe  packed 
to  the  very  last  article,  so  that  her  bu 
reau  drawers  looked  mournfully  empty. 
It  was  a  little  hair  trunk,  with  "  D.  C."  em 
bossed  in  brass  nails  upon  one  end,  that  contained 
all  this  young  lady's  armor — a  very  different 
affair  from  the  Saratoga  trunks  of  our  modern 
belles.  The  pink  brocade  with  its  bunches  of 
rose-buds ;  some  tuckers  of  choice  old  lace  that 
had  figured  in  her  mother's  bridal  toilet ;  a  few 
bits  of  ribbon;  a  white  India  muslin  dress,  em 
broidered  by  her  own  hands ; — these  were  the 
stock  in  trade  of  a  young  damsel  of  her  times, 
and,  strange  as  it  may  appear,  young  ladies  then 
were  stated  by  good  authority  to  have  been  just 
as  pretty  and  bewitching  as  now,  when  their 
trunks  are  several  times  as  large. 

Dolly's    place    and   Aunt    Debby's    had    been 
properly  set  down  on  Hiel's  stage-book  for  the 
next  morning  at  six  o'clock;  and  now  remained 
only  an  evening  of  last  words. 
350 


LAST    IVORDS.  35! 

So  Dolly  sits  by  her  father  in  his  study,  where 
from  infancy  she  has  retreated  for  pleasant  quiet 
hours,  where  even  the  books  she  never  read 
seem  to  her  like  familiar  friends  from  the 
number  of  times  she  has  pondered  the  titles 
upon  their  backs.  And  now,  though  she  wants 
to  go,  and  feels  the  fluttering  eagerness  of  the 
young  bird,  who  has  wings  to  use  and  would 
like  to  try  the  free  air,  yet  the  first  flight  from 
the  nest  is  a  little  fearful.  Boston  is  a  long 
way  off— three  long  days — and  Dolly  has  never 
been  farther  from  Poganuc  than  she  has  ridden 
by  her  father's  side  in  the  old  chaise ;  so  that 
the  very  journey  has  as  much  importance  in 
her  eyes  as  fifty  years  later  a  modern  young 
lady  will  attach  to  a  voyage  to  England. 

"  My  daughter,"  said  the  Doctor,  "  I  know  you 
will  have  a  pleasant  time;  I  hope,  a  profitable 
one.  Your  aunt  is  a  good  woman.  I  have  great 
confidence  in  her  affection  for  you ;  your  own 
mother  could  not  feel  more  sincere  desire  for 
your  happiness.  And  your  grandmother  is  an 
eminently  godly  woman.  Of  course,  while  with 
them  you  will  attend  the  services  of  the  Episcopal 
Church  ;  for  that  you  have  my  cordial  consent 
and  willingness.  The  liturgy  of  the  church  is 
full  of  devout  feelings,  and  the  Thirty-nine 
Articles  (with  some  few  slight  exceptions)  are  a 
very  excellent  statement  of  truth.  In  adopting 


352 


LAST    WORDS. 


the  spirit  and  language  of  the  prayers  in  the 
service  you  cannot  go  amiss ;  very  excellent 
Christians  have  been  nourished  and  brought  up 
upon  them.  So  have  no  hesitation  about  uniting 
in  all  Christian  exercises  with  your  relatives  in 
Boston." 

"  Oh,  Papa,  I  am  almost  sorry  I  am  going," 
said  Dolly,  impulsively.  "  My  home  has  been 
always  so  happy,  I  feel  almost  afraid  to  leave  it. 
It  seems  as  if  I  ought  not  to  leave  you  and 
Mother  alone." 

The  Doctor  smiled  and  stroked  her  hair  gently 
in  an  absent  way.  "  We  shall  miss  you,  dear 
child,  of  course  ;  you  are  the  last  bird  in  the  nest, 
but  your  mother  and  I  are  quite  sure  it  is  for 
the  best." 

And  then  the  conversation  wandered  back  over 
many  a  pleasant  field  of  the  past — over  walks 
and  talks  and  happy  hours  long  gone;  over  the 
plans  and  hopes  and  wishes  for  her  brothers  that 
Dolly  had  felt  proud  to  be  old  enough  to  share ; 
until  the  good  man's  voice  sometimes  would 
grow  husky  as  he  spoke  and  Dolly's  long  eye 
lashes  were  wet  and  tearful.  It  was  the  kind  of 
pleasant  little  summer  rain  of  tears  that  comes  so 
easily  to  young  eyes  that  have  never  known  what 
real  sorrow  is. 

And  when  Dolly  after  her  conference  came  to 
bid  her  mother  good-night,  she  fell  upon  her  neck 


LAST    WORDS.  353 

and  wept  for  reasons  she  could  scarce  explain 
herself. 

"  I  should  like  to  know  what  you've  been 
saying-  to  Dolly,"  said  Mrs.  Gushing  to  the  Doc 
tor,  suddenly  appearing  at  the  study-door. 

"Saying  to  Dolly?"  exclaimed  the  Doctor, 
looking  up  dreamily,  "why,  nothing  particular." 

"Well,  you've  made  her  cry.  I  declare!  you 
men  have  no  kind  of  idea  how  to  talk  to  a  girl." 

The  Doctor  at  first  looked  amazed,  and  then 
an  amused  expression  passed  slowly  over  his  face. 
He  drew  his  wife  down  beside  him  and  passing 
his  arm  around  her  said  significantly, 

"  There  was  a  girl,  once,  who  thought  I  knew 
how  to  talk  to  her — but  that  is  a  good  many 
years  ago." 

Mrs.  Gushing  laughed,  and  blushed,  and  said, 
"Oh,  nonsense!" 

But  the  Doctor  looked  triumphant. 

"As  to  Dolly,"  he  said,  "never  fear.  She's  a 
tender-hearted  little  thing,  and  made  herself  cry 
thinking  that  we  should  be  lonesome,  and  a  dozen 
other  little  pretty  kindly  things  that  set  her  tears 
going.  She's  a  precious  child,  and  we  shall  miss 
her.  I  have  settled  her  mind  as  to  the  church 
question." 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

DOLLY'S  FIRST  LETTER  FROM  BOSTON. 

]Y  DEAR  PARENTS:  Here  I  am  in  Bos 
ton  at  last,  and  take  the  very  first  quiet 
opportunity  to  write  to  you.  Hiel 
Jones  said  he  would  call  and  tell  you 
immediately  about  how  we  got  through  the  first 
day.  He  was  very  kind  and  attentive  to  us  all 
day,  taking  care  at  every  stopping-place  to  get 
the  bricks  heated,  so  that  our  feet  were  kept  quite 
warm,  and  in  everything  he  was  so  thoughtful 
and  obliging  that  Aunt  Deborah  in  time  quite 
forgave  him  for  presuming  on  his  rights  as  a 
human  being  to  keep  up  a  free  conversation  with 
us  at  intervals,  which  he  did  with  his  usual 
cheerful  goodwill. 

It  amuses  me  all  the  time  to  talk  with  Aunty. 
All  her  thoughts  are  of  a  century  back,  and  she 
is  so  unconscious  and  positive  about  them  that 
it  is  really  entertaining.  All  this  talk  about  the 
"  lower  classes,"  and  the  dangers  to  be  appre 
hended  from  them  ;  of  "  first  families "  and  their 
ways  and  laws  and  opinions ;  and  of  the  impro 
priety  of  being  too  familiar  with  common  people, 

354 


DOLLY" S  FIRST  LETTER  FROM  BOSTON.     355 

amuses  me.  She  seems  to  me  like  a  woman  in 
a  book — one  of  the  old-world  people  one  reads 
of  in  Scott's  novels.  She  is  very  kind  to  me ;  no 
mother  could  be  kinder — but  all  in  a  sort  of 
taking-possession  way.  She  tells  me  where  to  sit, 
and  what  to  do,  and  what  to  wear,  and  seems  to 
feel  a  comfortable  sense  that  she  has  me  now  all 
to  herself.  It  amuses  me  to  think  how  little  she 
knows  of  what  I  really  am  inside. 

We  stopped  the  first  night  at  a  gloomy  little 
tavern,  and  our  room  was  so  cold  that  Aunty 
and  I  puffed  at  each  other  like  two  goblins,  a 
cloud  coming  out  of  our  mouths  every  time  we 
opened  them.  They  made  a  fire  in  the  chimney, 
but  the  chimney  had  swallows'  nests  in  it  and 
smoked ;  so  we  had  to  open  our  windows  to  let 
out  the  smoke,  which  did  not  improve  matters. 

The  next  night  we  slept  at  Worcester,  and 
thought  we  would  try  not  having  a  fire  in  our 
room ;  so  it  grew  colder  and  colder  all  night, 
and  in  the  morning  we  had  to  break  the  ice  in 
our  pitchers.  My  fingers  felt  like  so  many  icicles, 
and  my  hair  snapped  with  the  electricity.  But 
Aunty  kept  up  good  cheer  and  made  me  laugh 
through  it  all  with  her  odd  sayings.  She  is  very 
droll  and  has  most  original  ways  of  taking  things, 
and  is  so  active  and  courageous  nothing  comes 
amiss  to  her. 

Our  third  and  last  day  was  in  a  driving  snow- 


356     DOLLY'S  FIRST  LETTER  FROM  BOSTON. 

storm,  and  the  stage  was  upon  runners.  I  could 
see  nothing  all  day  but  white  drifts  and  eddies  of 
snow-feathers  filling  the  air ;  but  at  sunset  all 
cleared  away  and  the  sun  came  out  just  as  we 
were  coming  into  Boston.  My  heart  beat  quite 
fast  when  I  saw  the  dome  of  the  State  House 
and  thought  of  all  the  noble,  good  men  that  had 
lived  and  died  for  our  country  in  that  brave  old 
city.  My  eyes  were  full  of  tears,  but  I  didn't 
say  a  word  to  Aunty,  for  she  doesn't  feel  about 
any  of  these  things  as  I  do.  I  daresay  she  thinks 
it  a  great  pity  that  the  old  Church  and  King 
times  cannot  come  round  again. 

It  was  quite  dark  when  we  got  home  to 
Grandmamma's,  and  a  lovely,  real  home  it  seems 
to  me.  Dear  Grandmamma  was  so  glad  to  see 
me,  and  she  held  me  in  her  arms  and  cried  and 
said  I  was  just  my  mother  over  again ;  and  that 
pleased  me,  for  I  like  to  hear  that  I  look  like 
Mother.  Mamma  knows  just  how  the  old  parlor 
looks,  with  Grandmamma's  rocking-chair  by  the 
fire  and  her  table  of  books  by  her  side.  The 
house  and  everything  about  it  is  like  a  story 
book,  the  furniture  is  old  and  dark  and  quaint, 
and  the  pictures  on  the  wall  are  all  of  old-time 
people — aunts  and  cousins  and  uncles  and  grand 
fathers — looking  down  sociably  at  us  in  the 
flickering  fire-light. 

It  was  all  nice  and  sweet  and  good.     By  and 


DOLLY'S  FIRST  LETTER  FROM  BOSTON.     357 

by  Uncle  Israel  came  in  and  I  was  introduced 
to  him,  and  our  new  English  cousin,  Alfred 
Dunbar.  They  both  seemed  glad  to  see  me, 
and  we  had  a  very  cheerful,  pleasant  evening. 
Uncle  Israel  is  a  charming  old  gentleman,  full 
of  talk  and  stories  of  by-gone  times,  and  Cousin 
Alfred  is  not  stiff  and  critical  as  Englishmen 
often  are  when  they  come  to  our  country.  He 
likes  America,  and  says  he  comes  here  to  make 
it  his  country,  and  so  far  he  is  delighted  with 
all  he  has  seen.  He  seems  to  be  one  of  those 
who  have  the  gift  of  seeing  the  best  side  of 
everything.  I  think  it  is  as  great  a  gift  as  any 
we  read  oi  in  fairy  stories. 

Well,  altogether  we  had  a  very  pleasant  even 
ing,  and  at  nine  o'clock  the  servants  came  in, 
and  Grandmamma  read  prayers  out  of  the  great 
prayer-book  by  her  side.  It  was  very  sweet 
to  hear  her  trembling  voice  commending  us  all 
to  God's  care  before  we  lay  down  to  rest. 
Grandmamma  is  really  altogether  lovely.  I  feel 
as  if  it  was  a  blessing  to  be  in  the  house  with 
her.  I  am  so  sleepy  that  I  must  leave  this  let 
ter  to  be  finished  to-morrow. 

December  2^(h. 

I  have  not  written  a  word  to-day,  because 
Aunty  said  that  we  had  come  home  so  Ink 
that  it  would  be  all  we  could  do  to  get  the 
house  trimmed  for  Christmas;  and  the  minute 


358    DOLLY'S  FIRST  LETTER  FROM  BOSTON. 

breakfast  was  done  there  was  a  whole  cart-load 
of  greens  discharged  into  the  hall,  and  we  set 
to  work  to  adorn  everything.  I  made  garlands 
and  wreaths  and  crosses,  and  all  sorts  of  pretty 
things,  and  Cousin  Alfred  put  them  up,  and 
Aunty  said  that  really,  "for  a  blue  Presbyterian 
girl,"  I  showed  wonderful  skill  and  insight  in 
the  matter. 

Cousin  Alfred  seemed  puzzled,  and  asked  me 
privately  if  our  family  were  "  Dissenters."  I 
explained  to  him  how  in  our  country  the  tables 
were  turned  and  it  is  the  Episcopalians  that  are 
the  dissenters;  and  he  was  quite  interested  and 
wanted  to  know  all  about  it.  So  I  told  him 
that  you  could  tell  much  better  than  I  could, 
and  he  said  he  was  coming  some  day  to  see  his 
relations  in  the  country,  and  inquire  all  about 
these  things.  He  seems  to  be  studying  the  facts 
in  our  country  philosophically,  and  when  I  told 
him  how  I  meant  to  visit  the  Copp's  Hill  Cem 
etery  and  the  other  graveyards  where  our  fathers 
are  buried,  he  said  he  should  like  to  go  with 
me.  He  is  not  at  all  trifling  and  worldly,  like 
a  great  many  young  men,  but  seems  to  think  a 
great  deal  and  to  want  to  know  everything  about 
the  country,  and  I  know  Papa  would  be  interested 
to  talk  with  him. 

Between  us,  you've  no  idea  how  like  a  bower 
we  have  made  the  old  house  look.  Aunty  prides 


DOLLY'S  FIRST  LETTER  FROM  BOSTON. 

herself  on  keeping  the  old  English  customs,  and 
had  the  Yule  log  brought  in  and  laid  with  all 
ceremony,  and  we  had  all  the  old  Christmas 
dishes  for  supper  in  the  evening,  and  grew  very 
merry  indeed.  And  indeed  we  have  made  it  so 
late  that,  if  I  am  to  sleep  at  all  to-night,  I  must 
close  this  letter  which  I  want  to  have  ready  to 
be  posted  to-morrow  morning. 

Dear  parents,   I   know  you  will   be   glad  that 
I  am  happy  and  enjoying  everything,  but  I  never 
forget  you,  and  think  of  you  every  moment. 
Your  affectionate  DOLLY. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

DOLLY'S  SECOND  LETTER. 

DEAR  PARENTS  :  We  had  such  a  glo 
rious  Christmas  morning — clear,  clean 
white  snow  lying  on  the  earth  and  on 
all,  even  the  little  branches  of  the 
trees.  You  know,  Mamma,  the  great  square 
garden  back  of  the  house.  Every  little  tree 
there  was  glittering  like  fairy  frost  work.  We 
all  hung  our  stockings  up  the  night  before,  and 
at  breakfast  examined  our  presents.  I  had  love 
ly  things — a  beautiful  prayer-book  bound  in 
purple  velvet  from  Grandmamma,  and  a  charming 
necklace  of  pearls  from  Uncle  Israel,  and  a  scar 
let  cloak  trimmed  with  lace  from  Aunt  Deborah, 
and  a  beautiful  Chinese  fan  from  cousin  Alfred. 
Aunty  has  been  putting  up  the  usual  Christmas 
bundle  for  you ;  so  you  will  all  share  my  pros 
perity. 

I  was  waked  in  the  morning  by  the  old  North 
chimes,  which  played  all  sorts  of  psalm  tunes 
and  seemed  to  fill  the  air  with  beautiful  thoughts. 
It  was  very  sweet  to  me  to  think  of  what  it 

was   all   about.      It   is   not   necessary  to   believe 
360 


DOLLY'S  SECOND  LETTER.  361 

that  our  Saviour  really  was  born  this  very  day 
of  all  others ;  but  that  he  was  born  on  some 
day  we  all  know.  So  when  we  walked  to  church 
together,  and  the  church  was  like  one  green 
bower,  and  the  organ  played,  and  the  choir  sung, 
it  seemed  as  if  all  there  was  in  me  was  stirred. 
I  never  heard  the  Tc  Deum  before,  and  how 
glorious,  how  wonderful  it  is !  It  took  me  up 
to  the  very  gates  of  heaven.  I  felt  as  if  I  was 
hearing  the  angels  sing ;  and  wThen  I  thought  of 
the  prophets,  the  apostles,  the  martyrs,  and  the 
holy  church  of  Christ  throughout  the  world,  I 
felt  that  I  was  one  with  them,  and  was  happy 
to  be  one  drop  in  that  great  ocean  of  joy.  For 
though  I  was  only  a  little  one  I  felt  in  it,  and 
with  it,  and  a  part  of  it,  and  all  the  joy  and 
glory  was  mine.  I  trembled  with  happiness. 

When  the  communion  service  came  I  went  with 
Grandmamma  and  knelt  at  the  altar.  It  seemed  as 
if  Christ  himself  was  there  giving  me  the  bread 
and  the  wine.  I  never  felt  so  near  to  Him. 
After  church  I  went  home.  I  was  so  full  that 
I  could  not  speak.  No  one  else  seemed  to  feel 
as  I  did — they  were  all  used  to  it — but  it  was 
all  new  and  wonderful  to  me,  and  made  heavenly 
things  so  real  that  I  felt  almost  averse  to  coming 
back  to  every  day  life.  I  wanted  to  go  alone 
to  my  room  and  dwell  on  it.  There  was  quite 
a  company  invited  t.o  dinner,  and  I  did  not  feel 


362  DOLLY'S  SECOND  LETTER. 

like  joining  them,  but  I  knew  Aunty  wanted  me 
to  make  myself  agreeable,  and  so  I  tried  my 
best,  and  after  a  while  took  my  part  in  the  con 
versation,  as  gay  as  the  rest  of  them.  Only 
once  in  a  while  some  of  those  noble  words  I 
had  been  hearing  came  back  to  me  with  a  sudden 
thrill,  and  wrould  bring  tears  to  my  eyes  even 
while  I  was  gayest. 

Cousin  Alfred  noticed  that  I  was  feeling  very 
much  about  something,  and  in  the  evening  when 
we  were  alone  for  a  few  minutes  he  asked  me 
about  it,  and  then  I  told  him  all  how  the  service 
affected  me,  and  made  me  feel.  He  looked  a 
little  surprised  at  first,  and  then  he  seemed 
thoughtful;  and  when  I  said,  "I  should  think 
those  who  hear  and  say  such  glorious  things  at 
church,  ought  to  live  the  very  noblest  lives,  to 
be  perfect  Christians,"  he  said,  "  Cousin,  I  am 
sorry  to  say,  it  is  not  so  with  me.  We  hear 
these  things  from  childhood;  we  hear  them 
Sunday  after  Sunday,  in  all  sorts  of  moods,  and 
I'm  afraid  many  of  us  form  a  habit  of  not  really 
thinking  how  much  they  mean.  I  wish  I  could 
hear  our  service  as  you  have  done,  for  the  first 
time,  and  that  it  would  seem  as  real  and  earnest 
to  me  as  it  does  to  you." 

We  talked  a  good  deal  after  this;  he  has  a 
deep,  thoughtful  mind,  and  I  wish  you,  my  dear 
Father,  could  talk  with  him.  I  know  you  will 


DOLLYS  SECOND  LETTER.  363 

like  him.  Is  n't  it  pleasant  to  find  relations  that 
one  can  like  and  esteem  so  much?  Cousin 
Alfred  is  like  a  brother  to  me  already,  and  to 
morrow  we  are  going  out  to  explore  the  antiq 
uities  of  Boston.  He  seems  as  much  interested 
in  them  as  I  do. 

Dear  Parents,  this  Christmas  puts  me  in  mind 
of  the  time  years  ago  when  they  dressed  the 
little  church  in  Poganuc,  and  I  ran  away,  over 
to  the  church,  and  got  asleep  under  a  great 
cedar-bush,  listening  to  the  Christmas  music.  It 
affected  me  then  just  as  it  has  done  now.  Is  it 
not  beautiful  to  think  we  are  singing  words  that 
Christians  have  been  singing  for  more  than  a 
thousand  years!  It  gives  you  the  feeling  of 
being  in  a  great  army — one  of  a  great  host ;  and 
for  a  poor  little  insignificant  thing  like  me  it  is 
a  joyful  feeling. 

You  ought  to  see  how  delighted  Aunt  Deborah 
is  that  I  take  so  kindly  to  the  prayer-book  and 
the  service.  She  gives  me  little  approving  nods 
now  and  then,  and  taps  me  on  the  shoulder  in 
a  patronizing  way  and  says  there  is  good  blood 
in  my  veins,  for  all  I  was  brought  up  a  Presby 
terian  !  This  is  all  very  well,  but  when  she  goes 
to  unchurching  all  our  churches  and  saying 
there  are  no  ordained  ministers  in  the  United 
States  except  the  few  in  Episcopal  pulpits,  I  am 
dreadfully  tempted  to  run  a  tilt  with  her,  though 


364  DOLLY'S  SECOND  LETTER. 

I  know  it  would  do  no  earthly  good.  I  believe 
I  should  do  it,  however,  if  Cousin  Alfred  did 
not  take  up  the  argument  on  our  side,  and  com 
bat  her  so  much  better  than  I  could  that  I  am 
content  to  let  her  alone.  She  tells  him  that  he 
is  no  Englishman  and  no  churchman,  but  a  very 
radical;  and  he  tells  her  that  he  came  to  America 
to  learn  to  use  his  common  sense  and  get  rid  of 
old  rubbish! 

For  all  this  they  are  excellent  friends,  and 
dear  old  Grandmamma  always  takes  our  part  be 
cause  she  is  so  afraid  Aunt  Debby  will  hurt  my 
feelings,  though  Aunty  says  that  in  her  heart 
Grandmamma  is  a  regular  old  Tory. 

I  asked  Grandma  about  this  one  day,  when  we 
were  alone,  and  she  said  she  always  loved  and 
honored  the  king  and  royal  family,  and  was 
grieved  when  they  stopped  praying  for  them  in 
the  churches.  If  she  was  a  Tory  she  was  so 
from  love,  and  it  is  quite  charming  to  hear  her 
talk  about  the  old  times. 

It  seems  to  me  no  great  change  ever  comes 
on  this  earth  without  grieving  some  good  people. 

But  it  is  past  midnight  and  I  must  not  sit  up 
writing  any  longer.  Dear  parents,  I  wish  you 
a  happy  Christmas ! 

Your  loving  DOLLY. 


CHAPTER  XL. 

ALFRED   DUNBAR  TO   EUGENE   SINCLAIR. 

|EAR  OLD  FELLOW:  Here  I  am  in 
America — in  Boston — and  every  day  I 
spend  here  makes  me  more  and  more 
satisfied  with  my  change  of  situation. 
The  very  air  here  is  free  and  inspiring,  full  of 
new  hope  and  life.  The  old  world  with  all  its 
restraints  and  bounds,  its  musty  prejudices,  its 
time-honored  inconveniences  and  hindrances,  is  a 
thing  gone  by ;  it  is  blue  in  the  dim  distance,  and 
I  see  before  me  a  free,  generous,  noble  country 
that  offers  everything  equally  to  all.  I  like 
Massachusetts;  I  like  Boston;  and  more  and 
more  I  feel  that  I  am  a  fortunate  fellow  to  have 
been  selected  by  my  uncle  for  this  lot. 

He  is  all  that  is  kind  and  generous  and  fatherly 
to  me,  and  I  should  be  an  ungrateful  cur  if  I 
did  not  give  him  the  devotion  of  a  son.  He  is 
so  amiable  and  reasonable  that  this  is  not  at  all 
a  hard  task. 

We  are  spending  our  Christmas  holidays  with 
his  mother  and  sister;  after  that  he  will  go  to 

365 


366 


ALFRED  D  UNBAR   TO  EUGENE  SINCLAIR. 


housekeeping  in  his  own  house.  He  wants  me 
to  get  married  with  all  convenient  dispatch,  but 
I  am  one  that  cannot  enter  into  the  holy  state 
simply  to  furnish  a  housekeeper  to  my  uncle  or 
to  place  a  well-dressed,  well-mannered  woman 
at  the  head  of  my  own  table. 

You  at  home  called  me  fastidious  and  romantic. 
Well,  I  am  so  to  this  degree,  that  I  never  shall 
marry  unless  I  see  the  woman  I  cannot  live 
without.  The  feast  of  matrimony  may  be  well 
appointed,  the  oxen  and  fatlings  be  killed,  and 
all  things  ready,  but  I  never  shall  accept  unless 
some  divine  power  "compels"  me  to  come  in;— 
and  up  to  this  day  I  have  felt  no  such  call. 

Mark  me,  I  say,  up  to  this  day ;  for  I  am  by 
no  means  certain  I  shall  say  as  much  a  month 
hence.  To  be  frank  with  you,  there  is  spend 
ing  the  Christmas  holidays  under  the  same  roof 
with  me  a  very  charming  girl  whom  I  am  in 
structed  by  my  Aunt  Deborah  to  call  "  Cousin 
Dolly." 

Now,  in  point  of  fact,  this  assumption  of  re 
lationship  is  the  most  transparent  moonshine.  I 
am,  I  believe,  second  or  third  cousin  to  my 
"  Uncle  Israel,"  who  is  real  uncle  to  this  Miss 
Dolly.  Of  course  my  cousinship  to  her  must 
be  of  a  still  more  remote  and  impalpable  na 
ture  ;  but  if  it  is  agreed  that  we  call  each  other 
" cousin,"  certainly  it  is  not  /that  am  going  to 


ALFRED  D UNBAR  TO  EUGENE  SINCLAIR.      367 

object  to  the  position  and  its  immunities— oh, 
no !  A  cousin  stands  on  a  vantage-ground ;  all 
sorts  of  delightful  freedoms  and  privileges  are 
permitted  to  him  ! 

I  "  take  the  good  the  gods  provide"  me,  and 
so  Cousin  Dolly  and  I  have  become  the  best  of 
friends,  and  we  have  been  busy  making  wreaths 
and  crosses  and  Christmas  decorations  under  the 
superintendence  of  Aunt  Deborah,  in  the  most 
edifying  and  amicable  way.  This  Aunt  Deborah 
is  the  conventional  upright,  downright,  good, 
opinionated,  honest,  sincere  old  Englishwoman, 
of  whom  there  are  dozens  at  every  turn  in  the 
old  country,  but  who  here  in  America  have  the 
interest  that  appertains  to  the  relics  of  a  past 
age.  But  she  is  vigorously  determined  that  in 
her  domains  the  old  customs  shall  be  in  full 
force,  and  every  rule  of  Christmas-keeping  ob 
served. 

Of  course  I  put  up  mistletoe  in  all  the  proper 
places,  and  I  found  my  new  cousin,  having  grown 
up  as  a  New  England  Congregational  minister's 
daughter,  knew  nothing  of  its  peculiar  privileges 
and  peculiarities,  so  that  when  the  kissing  began 
I  saw  a  bright  flush  of  amazement  and  almost 
resentment  pass  over  her  face ;  though  when  it 
was  explained  to  be  an  old  Christmas  custom  she 
laughed  and  gave  way  with  a  good  grace.  But 
I  observed  my  young  lady  warily  inspecting 


368     ALFRED  D UNBAR   TO  EUGENE  SINCLAIR. 

the  trimmings  of  the  room,  and  quietly  avoiding 
all  the  little  green  traps  thereafter. 

It  is  quite  evident  that,  though  she  has  all  the 
gentleness  of  a  dove,  she  has  some  of  the  wisdom 
of  the  serpent,  and  possesses  very  definite  opinions 
as  to  what  she  likes  and  does  not  like.  She  im 
presses  me  as  having,  behind  an  air  of  softness 
and  timidity,  a  very  positive  and  decided  char 
acter.  There  is  a  sort  of  reserved  force  in  her ; 
and  one  must  study  her  to  become  fully  acquaint 
ed  with  her.  Thus  far  I  hope  I  have  not  lost 
ground. 

I  find  she  is  an  enthusiast  for  her  country,  for 
her  religion,  for  everything  high  and  noble ;  and 
not  one  of  the  mere  dolls  that  have  no  capability 
for  anything  but  ribbons  and  laces.  She  has 
promised  to  show  me  the  antiquities  of  Boston 
and  put  me  in  the  way  of  knowing  all  that  a 
good  American  ought  to  know ;  you  see  our  time 
for  the  holidays  is  very  agreeably  planned  out 
in  advance. 

And  now,  my  dear  old  fellow,  I  see  you  shake 
your  head  and  say,  What  is  to  come  of  all  this? 

Wait  and  see.  If  it  should  so  happen  that  I 
should  succeed  in  pleasing  this  little  American 
princess — if,  having  gained  her  ear  as  Cousin,  I 
should  succeed  in  proving  to  her  that  I  am  no 
cousin  at  all,  but  want  to  be  more  than  cousin  or 
brother  or  the  whole  world  together  to  her — if 


ALFRED  D UNBAR   TO  EUGENE  SINCLAIR.     369 

all  this  should  come  to  pass,  why — there  have 
stranger  things  happened  in  this  world  of  ours. 
But  I  am  running  before  my  time.  Miss  Dolly 
is  yet  an  unknown  quantity  and  there  may  be 
a  long  algebraic  problem  to  be  done  before  I  can 
know  what  may  be;  and  so,  good-night  for  the 
present.  Yours  ever  truly, 

ALFRED  DUNBAR. 


CHAPTER  XLL 

FINALE. 

]FTER  reading  the  preceding  letters, 
there  is  no  one  who  has  cared  to  follow 
Dolly's  fortunes  thus  far  that  is  not 
ready  to  declare  the  end  of  the  story. 
One  sees  how  the  Christmas  holidays  stretched 
on  and  on ;  how  Aunt  and  Grandmamma  im 
portuned  Dolly  to  stay  longer;  how  Dolly  staid, 
and  how  she  and  Cousin  Alfred  walked  and 
talked  and  studied  New  England  history,  and 
visited  all  the  shrines  in  Boston  and  Cambridge 
and  the  region  round  about;  how  Aunt  Debby 
plumed  herself  on  the  interesting  state  of  things 
evidently  growing  up,  but  wisely  said  nothing 
to  either  party;  how  at  last  when  spring  came, 
and  April  brought  back  the  mayflower  buds,  and 
Dolly  felt  that  she  could  stay  no  longer  but 
must  go  home  to  her  parents,  "  Cousin  Alfred" 
declared  that  he  could  not  think  of  her  taking 
a  three  days'  journey  alone,  that  he  must  go 
with  her  and  protect  her,  and  improve  the  oppor 


FINALE.  37I 

tunity  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  his  relations 
in  the  country. 

All  this  came  to  pass,  and  one  fine  evening, 
just  at  sunset,  Hiel  drove  into  Poganuc  in  glory, 
and  deposited  Dolly  and  her  little  hair  trunk 
and  her  handsome  attendant  at  the  Parsonage 

o 

door. 

There  was  a  bluebird  singing  on  the  top  of 
the  tall  buttonwood  tree  opposite,  just  as  he 
used  to  sing  years  before ;  and,  as  to  Hiel,  he 
returned  home  even  better  content  with  himself 
than  ordinarily. 

"  There  now,  Nabby !  didn't  I  tell  ye  what 
would  happen  when  Dolly  went  to  Boston? 
Wai,  I've  just  set  her  down  to  the  Doctor's 
with  as  fine  a  young  sprig  as  you'd  wish  to 
see,  who  came  all  the  way  from  Boston  with  her. 
I  tell  you,  that  air  young  man's  eyes  is  sot ;  he 
knows  what  he's  come  to  Poganuc  fer,  ef  no 
one  else  don't." 

"  Dear  me !"  exclaimed  Nabby  and  Mother 
Jones,  both  rushing  to  the  window  simultane 
ously  with  the  vain  hope  of  getting  a  glimpse. 

"  Oh,  there's  no  use  lookin' !"  said  Hiel ; 
"they're  gone  in  long  ago.  Doctor  and  Mis' 
Gushing  was  standin'  in  the  door-way  when  1 
come  up,  and  mighty  glad  they  was  to  see  her, 
and  him  too,  and  shook  hands  with  him.  Oh, 
thet  air's  a  fixed-up  thing,  you  may  depend." 


372  FINALE. 

"  Dear  me,  what  is  he?"  queried  Mother  Jones. 
"  Do  you  know,  Hiel?" 

"  Of  course  I  know,"  said  Hiel;  " he's  a  mer 
chant  in  the  Injy  trade  up  there  to  Boston.  I 
expect  he  makes  lots  o'  money." 

"  Dear  me!  I  hope  they  won't  set  their  hearts 
on  worldly  prosperity,"  said  Mother  Jones  in  a 
lugubrious  tone;  "this  'ere's  a  dyin'  world." 

"  For  all  that,  Mother,"  said  Hiel  as  they  sat 
down  to  the  tea-table,  "you  enjoy  a  cup  o'  hot 
tea  as  well  as  any  woman  livin',  and  why 
shouldn't  the  parson's  folks  be  glad  o'  their  good 
things?" 

"  Wai,  I  don'  know,"  answered  Mother  Jones, 
"  but  it  allers  kind  o'  scares  me  when  everything 
seems  to  be  goin'  jest  right  fer  folks.  Ye  know 
the  hymn  says: 

'  We  should  suspect  some  danger  nigh 
When  we  possess  delight.' 

I  remember  poor  Bill  Parmerlee  fell  down  dead 
the  very  week  he  was  married  !" 

"  Well,  Nabby  and  I  neither  of  us  fell  down 
dead  when  we  was  married,"  said  Hiel,  "  and 
nobody  else  that  ever  I  heerd  on,  so  we  won't 
weep  and  wail  if  Dolly  Gushing  hez  got  a  rich, 
handsome  feller,  and  is  goin'  to  live  in  Boston." 

But,  after  all,  Dolly  and  Alfred  Dunbar  were 
not  yet  engaged.  No  decisive  word  had  been 


FINALE.  373 

spoken  between  them ;  though  it  seemed  now  as 
if  but  a  word  were  wanting. 

It  was  after  a  week  of  happy  visiting,  when 
he  had  made  himself  most  charming  to  all  in 
the  house,  when  Dolly  and  he  had  together  ex 
plored  every  walk  and  glen  and  waterfall  around 
Poganuc,  that  at  last  the  young  man  found  voice 
to  ask  the  Doctor  for  what  he  wanted ;  and, 
armed  with  the  parental  approval,  to  put  the 
decisive  question  to  Dolly.  Her  answer  is  not 
set  down.  But  it  is  on  record  that  in  the  month  ' 
of  June  there  was  a  wedding  at  Poganuc  which 
furnished  the  town  with  things  to  talk  about 
for  weeks. 

It  was  a  radiant  June  morning,  when  the  elms 
of  Poganuc  were  all  alive  with  birds,  when  the 
daisies  were  white  in  the  meadows,  and  the  bobo 
link  on  the  apple-tree  was  outdoing  himself,  that 
Hiel  drove  up  to  the  door  of  the  Parsonage  to 
take  Dolly  and  her  husband  their  first  day's 
journey  towards  their  new  home.  There  were 
the  usual  smiles  and  tears  and  kissing  and  cry 
ing,  and  then  Hiel  shut  the  stage-door,  mounted 
his  box,  and  drove  away  in  triumph.  It  was 
noticed  that  he  had  ornamented  his  horses  with 
a  sprig  of  lilac  blossoms  over  each  car,  and 
wore  a  great  bouquet  in  his  button-hole. 

And  so  our  Dolly  goes  to  her  new  life, 
and,  save  in  memories  of  her  childhood,  is  to 


274  FINALE. 

be    no  longer  one  of  the  good  people  of  Poga- 
nuc. 

Years  have  passed  since  then.  Dolly  has  held 
her  place  among  the  matronage  of  Boston;  her 
sons  have  graduated  at  Harvard,  and  her  daugh 
ters  have  recalled  to  memory  the  bright  eyes 
and  youthful  bloom  of  their  mother. 

As  to  Poganuc,  all  whom  we  knew  there  have 
passed  away;  all  the  Town-Hill  aristocracy  and 
the  laboring  farmers  of  the  outskirts  have  gone, 
one  by  one,  to  the  peaceful  sleep  of  the  Poga 
nuc  graveyard.  There  was  laid  the  powdered 
head,  stately  form,  and  keen  blue  eye  of  Col 
onel  Davenport ;  there  came  in  time  the  once 
active  brain  and  ready  tongue  of  Judge  Belcher; 
there,  the  bright  eyes  and  genial  smile  of  Judge 
Gridley ;  there,  the  stalwart  form  of  Tim  Haw 
kins,  the  gray,  worn  frame  of  Zeph  Higgins. 
Even  Hiel's  cheery  face  and  vigorous  arm  had 
its  time  of  waxing  old  and  passing  away,  and 
was  borne  in  to  lie  quiet  under  the  daisies. 
The  pastor  and  his  wife  sleep  there  peacefully 
with  their  folded  flock  around  them. 

"  Kinsman  and  townsman  are  laid  side  by  side, 
Yet  none  have  saluted,  and  none  have  replied." 

A  village  of  white  stones  stands  the  only  wit 
ness  of  the  persons  of  our  story.  Even  the  old 
meeting-house  is  dissolved  and  gone. 


FINALE.  375 

Generation  passcth,  generation  cometh,  saith 
the  wise  man,  but  the  earth  abideth  forever. 
The  hills  of  Poganuc  are  still  beautiful  in  their 
summer  woodland  dress.  The  Poganuc  river  still 
winds  at  their  feet  with  gentle  murmur.  The 
lake,  in  its  steel-blue  girdle  of  pines,  still  reflects 
the  heavens  as  a  mirror;  its  silent  forest  shores 
are  full  of  life  and  wooded  beauty.  The  elms 
that  overarch  the  streets  of  the  central  village 
have  spread  their  branches  wider,  and  form  a 
beautiful  walk  where  other  feet  than  those  we 
wot  of  are  treading.  As  other  daisies  have 
sprung  in  the  meadows,  and  other  bobolinks  and 
bluebirds  sing  in  the  tree-tops,  so  other  men 
and  women  have  replaced  those  here  written  of, 
and  the  story  of  life  still  goes  on  from  day  to 
day  among  the  POGANUC  PEOPLE. 

THE  END. 


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BRYANT,  WILLIAM  CULLEN. 
A  LIBRARY  OF    POETRY   AND   SONG  :    Being  Choice 
Selections  from  the  Best  Poets,   English,   Scotch,   Irish  and 
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LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF  SIR  PHILIP  SIDNEY.  A  Me 
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ATTON,  JACOB  HARRIS,  A.M. 


A  CONCISE  HISTORY  OF  THE  AMERICAN  PEOPLE, 
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MY  WIFE   AND   I :    Or,    Harry   Henderson's    History.     A 
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44  Always  bright,  piquant 
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unwomanly  tenden 

WE  AND  OUR  NEIGHBORS:  The  Records  of  an  Unfashionable 
Street.  A  Novel.  Illustrated.  I2mo.  Cloth,  $1.50. 

41  Wri  ten  in  Mrs.  Stowe's  genial,  hearty  style,  with  the  sparkle  of  fun,  wit  and 
humor,  and  the  touches  of  deep  pathos  which  characterize  her  work." — Worcester 
Spy. 

BETTY'S  BRIGHT  IDEA:  and  Other  Tales.  Comprising  "Betty's 
Bright    Idea,"    "Deacon    Pitkin's    Farm,"    and     "The    First 
Christmas  in  New  England."    Illustrated.     I2mo.    Cloth,  75  cts. 
"They  are  charming  tales." — Springfield  Union. 

k4  There  are  tears  between  the  lines,  and  smiles— bits  of  sunshine  in  an  April 
sky — such  as  Mrs.  Stowe  knows  how  to  paint." — Chicago  Inter-Ocean. 

POGANUC  PEOPLE:  Their  Loves  and  Lives.  A  Novel.  Illus 
trated.  I2mo.  Cloth,  $1.50.  (Just  out.) 

In  the  style  of  early  New  England  scene  and  character,  in  which  Mrs.  Stowc  is 
so  inimitable.  As  kk  Oldtown  Folks"  was  said  to  be  founded  on  Dr.  Stowe's 
childhood  memories,  so  this  is  drawn  from  some  of  the  author's  own  reminiscences, 
and  has  all  the  brightness  of  genuine  portraiture. 

BIBLE  HEROINES  :  Narrative  Biographies  of  Prominent  Hebrew 
Women  in  the  Patriarchal,  National  and  Christian  Eras.  Im 
perial  Octavo.  Spirited  frontispiece,  "Deborah  the  Prophetess." 
Elegantly  bound,  red  burnished  edges.  $2. 

44  The  fine  penetration,  quick  insight,  sympathetic  nature,  and  glowing  narra 
tive,  which  have  marked  Mrs.  Stowe's  previous  works  are-  found  in  these  pages, 
and  the  whole  work  is  one  which  readily  capmatcs  equally  the  cultivated  and  the 
religiously  fervent  nature." — Boston  Commonwealth. 

FOOTSTEPS  OF  THE  MASTER:  Studies  in  the  Life  of  Christ. 
With  Illustrations  and  Illuminated  Titles.  I2mo.  Cloth,  $1.50. 

44  A  very  sweet  book  of  wholesome  religious  thought." — N.Y.  Evening  Post. 

44  A  congenial  field  for  the  exercise  of  her  choice  literary  gifts  and  poetic  tastes, 
her  ripe  religious  experience,  and  her  fervent  Christian  faith.  A  book  of  excep 
tional  beauty  and  substantial  worth." — Congregationalist  (Boston). 


FORDS,  HOWARD,  &  HULBERT  publish,  by  subscription,  a  list  of 
attractive  Illustrated   Standard    Works,   which   afford  remunerative 
employment  to  Canvassers  of  the  right  kind.      These  publications  are 
of  high  literary  and  artistic  character,  and  command  ready  sales. 
CORRESPONDENCE  is  INVITED. 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

THE 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


urn  gflft 


BEC.C*      JW257 


JUN  2  4  1978 


ii 


I? 


1S79 


LD  21-40m-2,'69 
(J6057slO)476 — A-32 


General  Library 

University  of  California 

Berkeley 


